The Muggle Pureblood Relations Program
by thebluecray0n
Summary: After graduating, Hermione finds herself filming a reality show for the Ministry in an attempt to build a new world after the war. She isn't really sure what to expect when she finds out the pure-blood family she's matched with is the Malfoys.
1. Chapter One

_CHAPTER ONE_

'Summer will end soon enough, and childhood as well.'  
~George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones~

Hermione Granger had dreamed about the day she would graduate from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry since the day she got her letter as an unsuspecting eleven year old. Seven years later, because of the war delaying her graduation, she had grown up into a mature, intelligent woman who had experienced more in her life than she ever expected. As far as she was concerned, life had never been boring.

And now that it was finally time to leave the school that had become her home, the castle that was her sanctuary, there was no time to slow down in this whirlwind life she'd been having. Graduation was the end of something, but the start of something new, as well. The "safety" she'd had at Hogwarts would be stripped away, and she would be required to fend for herself in ways she hadn't before.

She looked at herself in the mirror in the girls dormitories. She was wearing her white graduation cloak, her bushy hair tamed underneath the cap. As Head Girl she had a special sash and as the valedictorian she had an extra cord that went around her shoulders. She applied clear lip gloss and considered herself ready for the main event. She took a final look around the room. As an only child and a nervous eleven year old, she had no idea how she was expected to live with strangers for six whole years with absolutely no privacy, but looking back at their time together all these years later, Hermione was a little misty eyed at the thought of leaving. True, all her stuff had been sent down to the Hogwarts Express already, but bare as the room was, it still felt like home.

She fanned herself to keep the tears at bay since she was determined not to cry until _after_ she had her diploma. Leaving the dorms and going down to the common room, she teetered uneasily on her heels, but made it down the stairs unscathed.

Professor McGonagall was speaking loudly, trying to line everyone up in alphabetical order. Only some students were listening, others were too nervous or excited to stand still and listen to orders. Some were talking amongst themselves. Hermione looked for her two best friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, but neither of them were anywhere to be seen. And Ron's flaming ginger hair was usually always easy to spot. She sighed, deciding she'd find them after the ceremony and found her spot behind Harvey Goode.

She kept turning back to see if either Harry or Ron had shown up, but she couldn't spot them in the sea of Gryffindors. Some time later, they descended from the Tower and marched to the double doors of the Great Hall. The sky high doors were shut and there were two lines of Hufflepuffs and Slytherins waiting to graduate. The Gryffindors shuffled over, waiting for the Ravenclaws to show up. McGonagall shushed them and went over to talk to Slughorn, the head of Slytherin house.

There were just over a hundred of them all graduating. A hundred different people she had lived and studied with for seven years, Hermione thought, and now they were all moving forward together.

She spotted Draco Malfoy standing by himself among the Slytherins. He had once been considered their arch enemy- besides Voldemort, anyway- but he had left them alone all year. He'd been in and out of classes, as well, going to his father's hearings and such. She remembered how much he used to swear up and down the castle how much he hated this place. She looked at him now, trying to see if any of the pitiful, crying boy she saw the day the war ended was in him somewhere.

Finally, the Ravenclaws arrived in their white cloaks, and the procession into the hall began. Usually, each of the different graduating houses would wear their house colours, but since the war a year ago, both the Ministry and Hogwarts were taking steps to make everyone equal and eliminating the belief that one group was superior- in hopes of preventing another war. So now, everyone at Hogwarts graduated in white as they were all one school and not just their own house.

Walking down the aisle, Hermione saw all the glowing, and sobbing, parents. Some of Muggle families and half-blood families were snapping pictures with cameras or video to remember the day. Hermione smiled when she spotted her parents and waved into the camera. Further up she saw the Weasleys who cheered as she walked passed. Mr. Weasley fumbled with the camera he had bought with the help of her parents. She saw his finger blocking the lens as the flash went off, making her shake her head in amusement.

Professor McGonagall spoke to the families. "Congratulations to you all on the success of your children. It is theirs as much as it is yours and the faculty who worked tirelessly with them all for seven years. This year has been as much of a transition for us as it was for them. For once it wasn't just the graduating class getting ready for life on their own, it was also a change for all of us.

"Many of us went through terrible loss. Others lost homes. Our home, lost its most prized leader and courageous professors. Our castle was destroyed. We have rebuilt and we have made an effort to move on. As have all of you- you lost sons, daughters, brothers, wives, mothers, aunts. Some of you lost homes. But you have all banded together and risen from the ashes like a phoenix and faced the challenges presented to you with utter class and proven to be strong example for your children.

"Our Ministry has also changed. Steps have been put into place for new laws to be passed. Werewolves, house elves, squibs- all groups that have long faced discrimination are beginning to see their rights being protected. New leaders are being elected and slowly, we will see a change. It is all because of your courage and strength that we have lived to see this day come.

"And now, lets celebrate our graduates!"

Hermione clapped and cheered along with everyone else. She didn't want to follow that speech with her own vastly inferior one she had written for being valedictorian. The time came for her, though, to stand up and speak. Her stomach was quivering with nerves, but she turned to the rows of students and finally found Harry and Ron.

They waved at her and gave her thumbs up. It was hard to believe how far they had come since the troll in the bathroom first year. They had hated her. And now there they were, years later, bonded by something they couldn't explain. Bonded by their experiences and understanding of the other person. She beamed back at them and looked down at the index cards that held her speech.

"After seven years of the familiar, we are getting ready to disembark and journey into our new lives. I'm supposed to have some intelligent advice for you all, since my grades say I'm good at knowing the right thing. I don't feel qualified to have this much responsibility. I am, after all, the same as all of you. We all had the same classes, ate the same food, watched the same Quidditch games. My experiences here at Hogwarts don't dwarf any of yours.

"As I am up here, though, I'm going to ask you all to remember the values the late and greatly missed Headmaster Dumbledore taught us. He believed in love and doing the right thing above everything. What is right and what is easy, he used to say. He taught us that there is never a hopeless situation, there's light everywhere. A person is not defined by grades or blood or clothes. A person is measured by their choices.

"I'm grateful to all the amazing people here at Hogwarts for teaching me so many things. Professor McGonagall taught us about our respecting ourselves by handing in polished work and taking pride in who we are. Hagrid taught us about the importance of animals and caring for others. Madame Hooch reminded us about sportsmanship and working together. Hogwarts has given us these people, who have all dedicated their time to us. They have helped us grow and become who we are today.

"I hope you look back on your time here fondly and are excited for what's to come. The only piece of advice I feel confident enough to give you is: cherish your friends and your family. My friends and family constantly make me want to be a better person. I love them all for loving me and they keep me going when I feel like I can't. Hopefully you have all found those people here at Hogwarts and hopefully you continue to find them all through your life. Congratulations,"

She smiled as the audience clapped and her fellow graduates did, as well. Everything went by too fast after that. Diplomas were being handed out and it was all a blur of white walking back and forth. Awards were handed out- Hermione got eight of them. Harry received a special one for "moral fibre" and fumbled with it awkwardly back to his seat. Then they were turning their tassels and officially considered Hogwarts alumni. Hermione's eyes grew misty as confetti exploded over them and the ceiling of the Great Hall transformed into a bright blue sky with millions of balloons floating above them. They marched out as the music swelled behind them.

There was a party at The Burrow waiting for them. They all arrived by Apparation - her parents' felt slightly sick after the pop over. She caught up with Harry and Ron and gave them both another great hug.

"We graduated!" She cheered, still in utter shock and bliss that the moment had come. "Can you believe it?"

Ron wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her against his side, "Cheers, mates! We're adults now!"

Harry laughed and fixed his glasses since they had gone askew in the hug, "I can't believe it."

Inside the house, it was warm and full of people. There was music playing and brooms for Quidditch out in the back garden. The table was full of steaming food and all their awards had been laid out in the living room. There were balloons and streamers and a big banner that read, "Congrats, Grads," with paint dripping off it. The place was littered with all the bouquets they had received and lit up by the sun's light.

Harry was assaulted by Ginny and the pair of them went off. Ron kept his arm around Hermione and they sat down on the couch. They had been together a year and it had been a good year. They stole kisses in the hall and did homework in the common room. Hermione cheered him on at Quidditch games and Ron made her a beaded bracelet for her birthday. His ratty, old 'R' jumper his Mum had given him for Christmas in sixth year that perpetually smelled like him, now belonged to her. Crookshanks still hadn't grown on him, but Hermione figured in time her cat would get used to him.

She snuggled into his arm and sighed in contentment. She wasn't worried about their relationship after school. They had spent seven years together. They were too used to each other's company to just stop seeing each other. Ron and Harry had pooled their money to get a flat together and start their auror training in a few weeks. Hermione, on the other hand, was staying at home for a little while longer. She had a simple job lined up at Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley and was saving up to get her own flat. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do yet- whether it be teaching or something in the Ministry. She was looking forward to the simple life she had lined up for the time being. Everything had been so intense for such a long time, that she had enjoyed the relatively normal last year of school she'd had. She'd been busy with her Head Girl duties and N.E.W.T classes, but it had been a different kind of busy and stress from previous years.

Ron seemed to sense her thoughts about the future, because he said, "'Mione, it's gonna be great. Living on our own, making our own rules..."

"You seem to forget I'll still be living at home, Ronald," She rolled her eyes playfully and nudged her boyfriend.

"Well, _I'll_ be living on my own, and you came over and it'll be great. Just like our," His lips dipped down to her ear and she felt his warm breath on her as he said, "rendezvous in the common room all last year."

"What are you doing using words like 'rendezvous?'" She teased, blushing briefly at the mention of the late nights they'd spend making out on the couch. And now he was talking about doing it at his own flat. My, my, how times were changing.

"Always the tone of surprise," He sighed, squeezing her shoulders in punishment.

The rest of the party was a blur of good food, good music, and good company. Harry and Ginny were spotted locking lips a few times. George would yell, Harry would blush, and Ginny would huff in annoyance at being interrupted. Ron tried to dance, but tall and gangly as he was, he mostly shuffled back and forth. Mr. Weasley tried to work his camera and the flash would go off at the oddest moments and usually, in someone's face. Hermione saw her dad trailing after him all evening trying to help him.

Baby Teddy was well behaved and passed around all night. He was like a magnet, attracting everyone to him. Tonight his hair was a flaming purple and his eyes kept going through the rainbow. Baby Victoire, on the other hand, was a wailing mess all night. She was only a month old, but she obviously didn't like the loud music and constant chatter. Shell Cottage was quiet, Hermione remembered, so the little girl was probably having culture shock at her first Weasley party. She'd learn eventually.

"I propose a toast!" George called happily, the champagne sloshing around in his glass. His arm was wrapped around Angelina's shoulders and she beamed up at him. "To Ronnie, Harry, and 'Mione! They defeated Voldemort and now they graduated Hogwarts!"

* * *

Since the war, the Ministry had come under fire for being prejudiced, archaic, stiff, delusional... Once the war had ended, there was a mass firing of anyone that fought for the Death Eaters. Trials were held and people were carted off to Azkaban. Several well off pure-blood families had been able to settle their problems with large swells of money, but not every family was that lucky. Even those _minor_ pardonings earned the Ministry so much backlash that they were forced to send some of those people to Azkaban for at least a day.

A meeting was being held today. There were meetings everyday at the Ministry dedicated to trying to bridge the gap between muggle borns and pure-bloods. Obviously, everyone was at a loss for what to do since the prejudice barrier had grown so much. But they needed to fix it, not just to prevent another war, but to save face. The Ministry was being called useless and some people were even calling for a new form of government.

"How bout a program that would bring muggle borns and pure-bloods together?" Marty Biggs pipped up. He was a small man with round glasses, fresh out of Hogwarts two years ago. He worked in the Department of Magical Transportation, so it didn't really make sense why he was at the meeting. The Ministry had gotten so buried under this problem that they were now bringing in wizards from random departments in hopes of finding a solution.

At everyones' blank stares, Marty gulped and stuttered on (working in the Department of Magical Transportation you didn't really deal with people much), "s-something to... make them w-work together."

"Go on," Wilson Betemit pushed. The new Minister had a deep voice that commanded a room easily. He had worked hard to pass several new bills that allowed house elves to ask for pay if they wished and set their own hours. He also made it illegal to hire someone because they were a werewolf and set up new employment rules that allowed werewolves to work three weeks out of a month. The week leading up to the full moon, they had off to prepare and be put on paid medical leave. Wilson Betemit had won over many wizards and witches with his plans, but it still wasn't enough to redeem the Ministry.

"W-well... every muggle born could have a p-pure-blood sponsor who would... help them get j-jobs and muggle borns could teach teach them about... muggle stuff..." Marty sputtered.

They all exchanged looks, murmuring to each other. Marty, spurred on by their interest, went on, "Since there aren't that many pure-blood families anymore... there wouldn't be enough. So we could... film it and air it to everyone..."

Wilson pounded his fist onto the wooden table, "I like it! A TV show. Nothing more muggle than that. We'll mandate it that everyone must own a television set and we'll air it as a holiday special. Starting it Christmas day. It'll create jobs and..." Wilson was like a kid on Christmas morning on a candy high. "This will be the best thing to happen to the wizarding community. Marty, you'll be a producer on this project. Draw up a list of names we'll cast. Rest of you, dismissed."

As everyone piled out, Marty sat back in his chair in shock. Had he really just pitched an idea and been put in charge of the project? How had that happened? He had a tiny cubicle in the Department of Magical Transportation listening to people complain about the service they received. He had been shocked when he was selected for this meeting, let alone having his idea chosen! What if this failed? He'd never done something this big before. He didn't know how to run something. What was he supposed to do first? Oh, right! A list of pure-blood families and muggle borns.

He stayed in the empty conference room drawing up the list. Pure-bloods were easy enough, there were a handful of them left. The real challenge was finding muggle borns that everyone would enjoy watching. The most obvious choice was Hermione Granger, seeing as she was probably the most famous muggle born, being The Boy Who Lived's best friend. Casting the others, however, would be a challenge.

* * *

**A/N New story time! Hello world :D I have written this story in its entirety so no worries of an unfinished story. I hope you liked this beginning bit and are interested in seeing more. It would be AMAZING if you'd review. I love reviews. Seriously. It's the best thing in the whole world. Please drop me a line and I'll send you Draco Malfoy and a bed ;)**


	2. Chapter Two

_CHAPTER TWO_

Alice came to a fork in the road. 'Which road do I take?' she asked.  
'Where do you want to go?' responded the Cheshire Cat.  
'I don't know,' Alice answered.  
'Then,' said the Cat, 'it doesn't matter.'  
~Lewis Caroll, Alice in Wonderland~

Waking up the morning of her first job, Hermione expected to feel different. She didn't. It was a bit of a let down, but she was determined to not let this tiny hitch cast a dark shadow on her big day. This was the first day of "real life," although Hermione wasn't sure how her life could get anymore real. She rolled out of bed and tugged on her pyjama shorts that had ridden up overnight. Her hair was a right mess, as was expected. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and went into her bathroom to get ready.

"I never got to see you off on your first day of school," her mum said, as Hermione walked into the kitchen ready for work, "but I do get to see you off to your first job," The table was stacked with pancakes and waffles that looked scrumptious.

"Thanks, Mum, but you really didn't have to-"

"Nonsense! Now sit. Eat. You're far too skinny. I knew if we sent you to boarding school you wouldn't know how to take care of yourself," her mum bristled, waving the dish rag around in the air.

Hermione rolled her eyes and tugged on her blouse, self consciously. If her mum knew about all the feasts at Hogwarts she would have fainted it. She helped herself to breakfast and made idle chit chat with her mum. Apparently, book club was today. Hermione's stomach rumbled as she ate, alerting her to her own nerves. She pushed the plate away, feeling uneasy and reached for a mug of tea.

After that she was too antsy to sit around, so she said goodbye to her mum and walked to the Apparation point. Arriving in Diagon Alley this early in the morning was odd, since none of the shops were open for business yet. She nodded amiably as shopkeepers wandered by getting ready to start their day. Diagon Alley felt different, it was open and free, unlike it would be in an hour's time, overrun with witches and wizards.

"Hey, 'Mione!" A familiar voice called, and Hermione spun around, finding George opening Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. She smiled, going over to greet him. He was struggling to get the latch undone, before he picked up his wand and said, "Blimey, sometimes I forget I have this thing," He said with a chuckle.

"Getting ready for work, I see," She smiled.

"You are too, I suppose," He said. "Don't be worried. Diagon Alley is a great place to work. Hey, come over for lunch if you want, okay, 'Mione?"

She nodded, "I'll see you later then. Better go, don't want to be late on my first day."

"You never want to be late," George called after her.

"You know me so well!" She said back, feeling a bit calmer than she had before. George would be a five minute walk away if she ever needed something. Everything would be fine. Flourish and Blotts was just up ahead and there was no way to delay it any longer.

She knocked on the still locked door, waiting for her new boss to let her in. Her name was Joy and her hair was starting turn grey and her glasses usually hung low on her nose. She was always smiling and smelled like coca butter. She came to the door now with a beam plastered on her face. "Good morning, Hermione,"

"Morning, Joy," She greeted, the bell over the door rattling as the door opened. It banged shut as Hermione followed the older woman through the aisles to the back.

"We got some new shipments to stock and a display to set up. We also need to start clearing some space for the new Hogwarts school books," Joy explained, waving her wand and opening another box. "We open in an hour and I want to have as many of these stocked as possible."

Hermione looked at the tower of boxes and whipped out her wand, ready for her first day of work as an adult, in the "real world," as an alumni of Hogwarts.

During her lunch break, she walked down to the Weasley's prank shop with her peanut butter and jelly sandwich from home. Her hands were sore from all the books she'd been carrying around all day. But the morning had been successful, she'd been able to find people the books they'd been looking for. She entered the shop and was hit with a blast of cool air.

_They have an air conditioner!_ Hermione sighed in happiness. Apparently Joy didn't used her AC until it was over ninety degrees outside and eighty didn't qualify. The shop had plenty of business and Hermione made her way over to the cashier, where she found her boyfriend. She giggled, watching him ringing up customers. They last thing she had expected was to find Ron working.

He looked up, like he had sensed her and smiled widely, waving her over. She didn't deny him and went over to the counter. "Hey there," She smiled, puckering up as he leaned down to kiss her.

"How's work?" He asked her, leaning over the counter, completely forgetting he was also supposed to be working.

"I could ask you the same thing. What are you doing here?" She asked, trying to contain her laughter.

"I... uh..." Ron began turing red, all the way from his neckline to his forehead. He rubbed the back of his neck and avoided his girlfriend's questioning gaze, "I, kinda wanted to... see... you..." He coughed, "on your first day... and, you know, George needed some help. He's kinda shorthanded."

Hermione leaned over the counter to plant a kiss on Ron's burning cheek. "Well, I've been stocking books all day. And getting ready for the massive shipments of Hogwarts school books. I can't believe we won't be buying any books this summer,"

Ron grinned, "Seven years worth of summer school book shopping over and done with."

Hermione smacked his shoulder and smiled dopily at him. George hurried past them with a foaming glass beaker and goggles pushed up over his forehead. "Oi!" He shouted at his brother, "Back to work or I'm docking your pay, little brother."

"There's no line!" Ron shouted uselessly after his brother's retreating form.

Hermione laughed and looked at Ron, "What is he doing?"

"Brainstorming, new items and such. Looks like this one didn't go so well. He's got a whole lab in the back. You should see it, it's wicked." He looked visibly excited at the mention of his brother's lab. "If I can swipe Harry's cloak from him, I'll take you,"

"Why do you need Harry's cloak?" Hermione asked, confused, "Can't you just take me to the back and-"

Ron shook his head violently, effectively stoping her from continuing. "George says it is top secret. The only person that got to go in was-" He stopped, taking a deep breath before saying, "Fred." He paused, clearly overwhelmed thinking about his late brother. "George only let me and Gin in opening day. We were all fighting with Percy at the time and Charlie was off working and Bill was wooing Fleur in France, so Gin and I were the only siblings around."

Hermione nodded along, unsure of what exactly she should say. "Don't get Harry's cloak," She smiled at him, rubbing his hand.

Ron nodded and murmured softly, "I probably wouldn't have the stomach to do that to George anyway,"

Hermione looked down at her watch. "I should probably start heading back,"

"Already?"

"Yeah, hey, we still have dinner plans tonight, right?"

"When have I ever said no to dinner?" Ron grinned and then added hastily, "With you. When have I ever said no to food _and_ your wonderful company?"

She rolled her eyes and muttered sardonically, "Yeah, yeah." On her way out, she passed George hopping up and down on one foot and fanning the overflowing potion. She thought about going to help him, but he waved her off, muttering about fixing it on his own. She walked back up to Flourish and Blotts passing little kids running around with ice cream cones and chasing runaway chocolate frogs. There were young witches shopping for new clothes and wizards buying new brooms for Quidditch games in their back gardens.

The store was stuffy when she got back and there were a few customers milling around. She spotted Joy standing on a ladder, helping a customer get a book from the top shelf. She pulled her hair up into a pony tail and wiped the sweat forming on her brow and got back to work.

When her shift finally ended at five, she could have sprinted from the store. But Joy held her back to congratulate her on a good first day... and ask her to help her set up the new release stand with Molly Tankers new cook book. Apparently, they were anticipating a mad rush tomorrow since Molly would be at the store signing copies.

Hermione sighed. How was she supposed to say no? You don't say no to your boss ever, let alone your first day, at your first job, straight out of school. She joined Joy over the box and took out for her wand. She ended up leaving an hour and a half later than she should have, which gave her half an hour to get ready for her date with Ron. She ran to the Apparation point, weaving in and out of shoppers and nearly tripping multiple times.

Her mum was waiting for a full report. "Hi, sweetie! You're late, did you have to stay late?"

"Yeah, can't talk now, sorry, date," She stammered, hurrying up the stairs.

"You got mail!" her mum called up, but it didn't matter to Hermione right now.

She had wanted to shower before their night out, but it didn't look like she'd have the time. She dumped her bag on the floor and pulled out the dress she'd bought last week for the evening. It was a purple number that was tight on top and encrusted, but fanned out at the waist and stopped just before her knee. Hermione had fallen in love with it at first sight. She held the work of art up, looking at it. She wanted to look and feel her best in it. She was going to shower and Ron was just going to have to suck it. Crookshanks jumped off her bed, annoyed at having been woken up from his nap by all her scrambling around.

She showered quickly and dried herself with a spell in hopes she wouldn't be _too_ late. She heard the doorbell ring as she applied her eyeliner. She was still wrapped in her towel and her stuff hadn't been transferred from her bag to her clutch. Her stomach tingled and she couldn't stop smiling as she heard her boyfriend's deep voice as he talked with her mum downstairs.

Ron was at her house, picking her up for a date. It had been a year of amazing dating, and the excitement hadn't gone away at all. She put the bracelet Ron had made her that she took off to shower on and grabbed a pair of earrings. Slipping into her dress and grabbing her heels, she was nearly done. She packed her clutch and used a spell to put her hair up in a smooth, slick, ponytail.

"Yeah, yeah... auror training will still be going on. Harry and I are absolutely gutted we're going to miss it," Ron was saying as she walked into the living room.

"Miss what?" She asked, smiling at her boyfriend as he spun around at her entrance.

"Hey," Ron smiled, looking her up and down.

She blushed and looked at her mum with her eyebrows raised. "Ron can't make our annual camping trip," her mum explained.

"O-our annual what?" Hermione asked, looking at her mother like she had grown three heads.

Her mum blanched, but went on, "Our annual camping trip... that we're starting this year."

"Who is going camping?" Hermione laughed, "Because I'm not going camping and you can't make me,"

"Well that's why I thought to invite your boyfriend, but we'll talk about this later. You two go have a fun night out," her mum insisted, waving them both off.

"You bet we're talking about this later," Hermione told her mum, before taking Ron's hand and dragging him out.

"Bye, Maria!" Ron called, letting his girlfriend lead him out of the house. "Your dad is still at work?" He asked, wrapping his arm around her shoulders once they were out and walking to the Apparation point.

"Yeah, he's a keynote speaker at this crazy, big time dentist conference, so he's been staying late at work to write his speech. Anyway, I'm sorry about being late- Joy had me stay late and I couldn't say-"

"Sh," Ron cut her off, "I don't mind. You look amazing," He complimented her, planting a kiss on the side of her head.

She grinned and nudged his side, "You clean up pretty nice too. So where are we going?"

"This is our first date as adults," He grinned mischievously, "I wanted to make it special,"

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. She shivered slightly at the look on his face as her thoughts drifted somewhere above R18. "So we're eating really fancy food?" She guessed, trying to pull her mind out of the gutter.

Ron chuckled, "Hold on tight,"

She wrapped her arms around his middle as he Apparated them to their super secret dinner spot. She was always nervous when she Apparated with Ron- or anyone for that matter. She didn't trust anyone to get her wherever they were going with all her limbs intact. Growing up with Ron and seeing him messing up spells quite frequently, though, kind of put him at a disadvantage. She opened one of her eyes, gratefully that she still had two arms, ten fingers, two legs, and ten toes.

He rolled his eyes at her reaction, but didn't say anything. She blushed at being caught and and intertwined her hand in his to try and make up for it. It was then she noticed where they were. "We're not in London anymore..." She trailed off, spotting the glittering Eiffel Tower in the distance.

"No, we are not," Ron agreed, carefully leading her through the crowded streets.

"You took me to Paris?" She asked, flabbergasted. She looked around, wanting to see everything. She had always wanted to travel to France and visit Notre-Dame and Le Louvre and then take a bus to see Versailles. She turned back to Ron, since he hadn't said anything. "How long are we staying?"

He glanced at her in confusion. "Uh... dinner?"

"Dinner?" She gasped. "Ronald, we're in Paris and you're telling me all we're doing is eating?"

"Well, we're eating by the Seine!" He protested, "and I _was _going to take you up the Eiffel Tower after!"

"But-but... there's so much more to do! We could have planned a real trip- and taken the train!" Hermione lamented, looking around the vibrant city. The architecture was beautiful, nothing felt real. She couldn't imagine people actually lived here and went to work everyday. She hoped they saw a mime.

Glancing over at Ron, she saw his ears were red. She knew her reaction hadn't been what he was expecting, but how could he have taken her to Paris out of the blues and expected her to be fine with just food? Didn't he know her at all? Paris was more than just a place you went to eat. It was a place you went to experience! She wanted to take long strolls by the Seine hand and hand and visit the Mona Lisa and take goofy tourist pictures. Going inside Notre-Dame and seeing the city from the top, pretending she was a bell ringer. Paris was not a one night stand, it was who you took home to meet your parents.

"Well I'm sorry. I thought it would make you happy," He shot back, not looking at her.

She sighed, their big romantic night out as adults had been ruined.

* * *

He walked her to her doorstep. He was mad at her and she was mad at him for being mad at her. He could have just said, "I'm sorry, love. You're right. I know how much you love learning and realise now that we should come back and see the city. So lets plan a trip and it'll be full of sexy times and silly picture taking." But no, he was mad and so she was mad at him.

It was stiff and there was tension between them. They weren't touching and when Ron leaned down to kiss her goodnight, she closed her eyes for a different reason than usual.

"Night, Ron," She muttered, slipping into the house as quickly as she could.

"Bye," He deadpanned back, the door slamming in his face.

Hermione made herself a cup of tea to relax herself. Both her parents were already in bed, so she was alone- until Crookshanks decided to prance into the kitchen and meow for food. She poured some dry food into his bowl and gave his ear a quick scratch. The orange fur ball purred and dipped his head to eat. Once her tea was ready, she went up to her room, Crookshanks following behind loyally.

She changed out of her dress and instantly felt better in her pyjamas. There was no point in being mad all night. She could be mad again tomorrow. But for tonight she was going to lay back, drink some tea, watch bad reality tv and wonder why she was killing her brain cells instead of checking what was on BBC, all on her comfy bed and in comfy pjs because she was an adult, with a real job, and a nutter boyfriend, living in her parents' house, having just graduated top of her class from Hogwarts.

Crookshanks curled up at the foot of her bed and Hermione sipped her tea. Her mum saying something about mail came back to her and she glanced over at her nightstand finding an envelope and a magazine. Confused, since she didn't subscribe to any magazines, Hermione reached for it. It was a copy of Witch Weekly- apparently they were hoping if they sent you a free copy you'd subscribe. Hermione put it back and reached for the letter.

The envelope said it was from the Ministry. She sat up, slightly confused as to why she was getting a letter from the Ministry. It was addressed to her, not 'Current Resident' or something else like that, so it must have been important. Was someone offering her a job? No- that was ridiculous. Why would anyone offer her a job? She hadn't done anything spectacular. She ripped the envelope carefully and pulled out the letter.

Her eyes danced over the words printed on the page. It was written in black ink and loopy writing, but it was clear enough to read. It started with: _Dear Hermione Granger_, which was always a good way to begin a letter. She hoped Wilson Betemit wasn't already campaigning for voters for the next election. But she didn't need to worry, because the letter wasn't about that. It was an invite to be part of a wizard version of the bad reality tv show she was currently watching.

Her eyes practically bugged out of her head and she reached for her tea to take a sip and calm herself. She reread the line: _The Ministry is in preproduction on a new show to bring Muggle born withes and wizards and pure-bloods together in hopes of building a bridge._

Building a bridge? What cracker had written this letter? And _who_ in their right mind would have thought she would want to be part of this? She looked up at the tv on her wall. She didn't even know what the name of the show was, but there was a fake plastic blonde dancing on a table with a shot glass in her hand. This was what 'reality' tv was. She didn't want to be a part of it in the slightest.

And why would she want to spend anymore time with pure-bloods than she had to? They were prejudiced and cruel, hating her just because her parents were nonmagical. They believed themselves superior and looked down on everyone else, thinking them scum. They were all the same.

She put the letter down on her bed and took another large gulp of her steaming tea. Putting it down on her nightstand, she spotted a picture of her and Ron. Her face softened as she realised, the Weasleys were pure-bloods. They weren't prejudiced or hateful- they were "bloodtraitors." They had put their lives on the line to fight for what was right and had been so good to her- and to anyone that needed them.

Something else hit her. Was _she _prejudiced? Against pure-bloods? If she was, it was because they had earned it. She looked at the letter again, a little less sure of her quick write off of the letter's message.

_We have been working around the clock to try and remedy the destruction done by the war... Muggle borns and pure-bloods coming together to prevent a war... ending prejudice and showing both sides... a filmed tv show to air starting during the holiday season... very excited and hope to hear you are to... we will wait for your owl... have a good day..._

There was cheering from the telly and Hermione looked up. The girl had taken her top off.

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**A/N Hi guys! There's only a few of you, so thanks so much if you're reading this! I hope you're liking it :) and I hope you're excited to read more. Cheers guys, and reviews are very much appreciated. **


	3. Chapter Three

_CHAPTER THREE_

Frodo: I wish the ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.  
Gandalf: So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.  
~J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring~

The next morning, she and her mum had breakfast together. "Camping?" Hermione asked, over a bowl of cereal. They hadn't been camping since she was fourteen for one reason: it hadn't gone well. They all agreed that would be the end of camping. The Grangers were not campers. All three of them had admitted that and made peace with it. They had buried it in the ground with gravestones. She didn't know why her mum was back on the camping bandwagon. "Have you convinced dad?"

Her mum rolled her eyes, sipping her tea. "Your father has no say. In anything."

Hermione sighed. "_Why_ do you want to go camping again? You said yourself, there was no electricity, you couldn't dry your hair, there was no place to shower besides a _creek_, and we could hear bears at night."

"We did not hear bears." Her mum laughed, pouring some more milk into her mug. "Stop being dramatic, dear."

"There were bears!" Hermione protested. "I don't want to go back out there. I'm an adult, you can't make me."

"Sweetheart, I can make you do anything while you live under this roof. Now, you're growing up, and you're starting to get your own life together. I just want us to still be together and do stuff as a family."

"Mum," She said, glancing at the clock to see how much longer she had, "Of course we'll keep doing stuff together. I love being with you guys. But can't we go see a show at the West End? Or a museum... or... we'll all go to dad's dentist conference! But please, no camping."

"Hermione, we're going camping. So buy some mosquito repellent." her mum said sternly, standing up and going to the sink.

Hermione muttered bitterly, "There's a spell for that."

"Good," her mum said merrily, "then I trust you'll practice it in time for the trip. Now, what was that letter from the Ministry about?"

Hermione closed her eyes briefly. She hadn't gotten much sleep last night thinking about the letter and reality tv and prejudice and if she was going to do it. She wanted to owl Ron and see if he had gotten a letter since the Weasleys were a pure-blood family, but she'd been too mad at him to do it.

"The Ministry is..." She trailed off, trying to find the easiest way to get it out, "doing a reality tv show, trying to bring muggle borns and pure-bloods together. And they want me to be a cast member,"

She wasn't sure how her mum was going to react. She didn't even know if she wanted her mum to be outraged or excited. She watched her mum carefully and saw some sort of glint in her mum's eye. "Are you going to do it?"

"I- I don't know. Wait a second, don't you watch that one about the family in California with all the sisters and..."

"No, no," her mum said with a wave of her wand. "They're crazy, but that one about the girl in Alaska is good."

"What one-"

Her mum cut her off, almost like she was annoyed her daughter didn't know which reality tv shows she liked, "The one whose mum ran for the vice president in the states."

"She has a reality tv show? Can _anyone_ have a real- wait. You _like _this stuff?" Her mind was an absolute mess, she decided. She couldn't keep anything straight anymore. "So you want me to do the show?"

"I did not say that," her mum began, defensively, "those shows are probably scripted and they edit shots like crazy to make you look unstable. It's completely up to you. There would be cameras everywhere. They'd follow you on dates, lunch at the Burrow, your job..."

"I'm supposed to be paired up with a pure-blood family and spend time with them and stuff like that..." She trailed off, "I don't really want to hang out with pure-bloods..."

"Hun, it's getting late. We can keep talking about this when you get back, but for now you go to work and keep thinking about it."

Her mum was right, and Hermione left. When she got to Flourish and Blotts, she was relieved to find the air conditioner on. It seemed Joy had decided to turn it on since Molly whats-her-face would be signing copies of her cookbook in the store that afternoon.

During her lunch break she went over to talk to George with the intention of asking him about the letter she had gotten. She had been walking outside for two minutes and already her body was burning up from the harsh sun. She was envious of all the people around her in shorts.

However, as she got closer to the store, she noticed a line out the door, stretching down the alley. Confused, she picked up her pace and saw snow falling through the window. The laugh came slipping out before she realised it- the ingenuity of George Weasley. It was a sight to see. She remembered when Fred died, everyone had been so concerned about George and how he'd pull through. He had jumped right into work and no one saw him for days. But now he was better, he had started getting better when he started going out with Angelina months ago.

It had been bizarre at first, but everyone had gotten used to it once they saw George smiling again. Hermione hadn't been able to judge them for it when she figured both of them probably felt guilty about it themselves. As long as George was happy, that was all she wanted. And that was all the Weasleys wanted.

Even if they were pure-bloods. Hermione sighed, the idea that she, herself, was prejudiced rattled her to the bone. She had spent her whole life priding herself on being a free thinker and there she was blaming all pure-bloods for the problems in the world.

"Back of the line!" Someone shouted at her as she approached the store. She glanced at the line- she couldn't even see the end of it- and then back at Jack who it seemed George had sent to man the line.

Jack smiled at her when he saw her. "Go right in, Hermione," He smiled at her, "George said you might come by anyway. How is work?"

"It's great, there's a book signing, so it's kinda packed." She looked back at the store window and the tiny snowflakes, "So, looks like you guys are making good business,"

Jack laughed, "That George, he's very smart. Go on, you'll see, it's freezing in there."

She waved goodbye and then went inside. The cold air hit her in a nanosecond. It stopped her dead in her tracks and she wrapped her arms around her middle, in hopes of keeping herself together. The snow was all around her, and there were snow mounds scattered throughout the store. She could see her breath and worried she would get frostbite. It felt like Antarctica and wished she had a herd of emperor penguins to snuggle up with.

She took small steps forward and saw everyone else was moving slow, too. Ron wasn't over by the cashiers and she wondered if he had avoided working so he wouldn't have to see her. She was avoiding him too- it was why she was seeking out George and not him. George found her looking at an aisle of Multi-color Exploding Erasers.

"Hey there, 'Mione," He grinned. She laughed when she saw him. He was wearing one of those hats with the ear flaps and a giant winter coat.

"You came prepared," She said, "this is amazing. It's freezing!"

"Beats the AC, huh? Yeah, I thought it was cool." George said, his nose turning red. "Of course... it is a bit too cold... but who cares? No one seems to be complaining. How bad is it outside?"

"The weather or that line!" Hermione laughed.

George grinned, "Is the line _that_ bad?"

She nodded, "I can't even see the end of it, and that sun is hot. You're gonna have a very good day with this idea,"

"Tell mum to come by when you see her. She's gonna be at that fruity lady's book signing,"

"I will, hey, um... I needed to ask you-"

"And what did you do to my baby brother last night?" George broke in, crossing his arms and looking down at her like she had done something wrong.

"ME?" She barked, mirroring George's arms. "_I _didn't do anything. Ronald-"

"He took you to Paris!" George said, "I know he's not the most attractive bloke, that honour goes to me, but he did _take you to Paris_,"

"I could Apparate to America right now. Or Africa. It's not that hard when you have magic." She pointed out, "So fine, he _Apparated _me to Paris. He didn't _ take_ me to Paris. 'Take' implies brining someone and showing them around,"

George shook his head with a laugh, "So you're mad because he just took you to eat?"

"In _Paris!_ What was so bad with eating here if we weren't going to do anything else?"

"Because it's _Paris_- the mood and such- whatever. You can work it out with him. But you are the reason I don't have an extra hand in this madness." George didn't seem mad at her, just very amused. It was obvious he thought their fight was ludicrous.

"If Ronald wants to be a right, immature, prat about it than that is _his_ prerogative. The _grown-ups_ still had to get up and go to work today," She miffed, determinedly staring at a box of exploding erasers. She looked down at the floor and cleared her throat before asking George about the letter.

"You got a letter from the Ministry?" He asked, his nose crinkling the way all Weasley noses do when they are confused about something. "What for?"

"So you didn't get something about a reality tv show focusing on pure-bloods and muggle born witches and wizards?" She questioned, bitting her lip.

"I don't know anything about it. Mum might have gotten the owl. Ask her at the signing. But really? That's... I don't know."

"It's weird, right?" Hermione went on, seeing George was speechless. "I can't... ugh,"

"Wait- and they want you to do it?" George asked, catching on. His mouth dropped, "You on a reality tv show?"

"I know!" She shivered, "I can't even fathom- it's just so different from anything I've ever done or thought I wanted to do. And spending _time_ with pure-bloods and _teaching_ them about muggles... I'm sure none of them even want to learn! Does it make sense to even consider this?"

George shrugged. "It's a challenging idea. That Wilson Betemit sure is trying to get work done."

With George being no help, Hermione left the shop (regretfully since the second she was back outside she thought she was going to pass out from heat stroke). Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour had a line out the door. Hermione stopped off at a cafe with a purple umbrella to pick up a panini to eat on her way back.

The shop was starting to fill up with excited patrons. Hermione hadn't realised Molly Tankers had fans. She looked for Mrs. Weasley's beacon of red hair, but didn't spot her. She must not have arrived yet. In the mean time, she busied herself working crowd control and trying to get everyone seated by the stage so things went smoothly. Joy needed help bringing the refreshments out, so Hermione and a fellow co-worker brought out the platters of finger sandwiches and crackers.

"Hermione," Joy said, pulling her aside, "Make sure there's a bottle of water on the podium and ample pens for signing."

She did, and by the time she got back, she spotted Mrs. Weasley in the fourth row talking to the witch next to her. They both had copies of the book in their laps and seemed like they were enjoying their conversation. Mrs. Weasley looked up, like she could feel Hermione watching her, and waved happily. She waved back, but then there was a woman next to her asking where the loo was.

Mrs. Weasley found her a bit later and greeted her with a hug. "Working girl," She grinned, "Is it going well?"

"Sure, sure. It's great."

"What in Merlin's beard did my son do? I saw a line around the alley!" Mrs. Weasley asked, waving her arms for effect.

Hermione laughed, "It's snowing. You have got to go see it after the signing- it's incredible."

"That boy, always new ideas," She beamed, proud. Hermione laughed, remembering the days she was so against her twin boys becoming pranksters for a living. Now she couldn't have been more proud of them even if she tried.

"I was wondering if you had gotten a letter from the Ministry-"

"About the tv show," Mrs. Weasley cut her off, "Yes, yes. You got one too?"

"Yeah... um, I was wondering what you thought about it..." Hermione rocked on her foot, twisting her fingers in her hand. She braced herself for whatever Mrs. Weasley was going to say, unsure, like this morning, what she wanted to hear.

"I think it's an interesting idea," Mrs. Weasley began, "I haven't talked to everyone about doing it, but I would like to. I think we have a chance to be role models and we should take it. It seems the Ministry is trying and we should all do our part to help out. And if the show fails, then we tried and we'll all move on."

"So you're considering doing it..." Hermione said, "I'm so confused,"

"I'm sure you are. I know all those shows don't portray women in the most flattering way, but Hermione you are classy and intelligent and this is your chance to show a strong woman for millions of little girls to watch and hopefully, aspire to." Mrs. Weasley praised, rubbing her shoulder. "Think about it,"

Harry agreed to meet her for dinner. He ran his hand through his hair as soon as he entered the cafe, spotting her instantly. He beamed at her and waved, walking over. She smiled back, standing up to hug him when he was close enough.

"Ron's mad at you," Harry greeted her with, sitting down.

She laughed, remembering her conversation with George from earlier. It looked like Ron had told everyone. If he worked for the Prophet the whole wizarding world would know about their row tomorrow morning on the front cover. "So I've heard," She deadpanned, picking up her menu.

After they ordered, they made small talk. Harry told her about how he was starting to go the gym to bulk up for auror training. Then there was the story about Pig, Ron's tiny owl, pooping in their shower. "Oh, and," He rubbed the back of his neck, "Ginny wants to go out on a double date. I know she's at Hogwarts at that summer program, but she just wanted me to tell you,"

Hermione shook her head and smiled. Their food came and they started eating. They each swapped a piece of their food to try the other's and then Hermione worked up the nerve to ask Harry about what she really wanted to. She played with the pasta on her plate, pushing bits and piece aside, while occasionally eating some.

Harry noticed. Because he was Harry flippin' Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, and her best friend. He put down his sandwich and studied her. Hermione couldn't remember the last time she had been looked at so intensely and reached for her soda. Maybe the carbonated beverage would help. She looked up at Harry and knew he wasn't going to ask her what was bothering her. His look was him asking and she would answer if she wanted too. And she did, that was the whole point of tonight, but she didn't know what to say.

So she started with explaining about the letter. Harry stayed silent through her story, giving her the chance to get it all out there. She knew it was a big deal for him, since he usually had outbursts where he'd just say whatever he wanted to, but she figured it was all part of his pre-auror training. He was growing up. The notion made her a little melancholy while she told the story, but she tried to push it away and not be such a nostalgia hippie since they were all getting older and changing. In the case of Ron, it seemed his maturity level hadn't skyrocketed, but she'd deal with her boyfriend later.

Finally, Harry said, "Every time I think the Ministry can't get any dumber, they do something like this."

"So you think it's a bad idea." She gathered, playing with her food again. She was a little embarrassed to have had to admit she was thinking about taking it and that's why it was bothering her so much. Especially now that she had Harry telling her it was stupid.

"Of course I-" He paused, looking around at the customers that had turned to glance at them. He cleared his throat and then lowered his voice as he went on, "I think it's bad idea. Hermione, the Ministry is just gonna hurt you through this. They're gonna twist everything you say and make you look crazy,"

"No, I mean- the point of this thing is supposed to help change the prejudice that exists." She said, but it sounded faulty even to her own ears. She sighed, wishing she had never gotten the stupid letter in the first place.

Harry looked at her and said firmly, "Please don't do it, 'Mione,"

She couldn't help it. Everything in her body was singing at her to do it and she had no idea why. Maybe because Harry seemed to convinced it would fail. Maybe because Mrs. Weasley wanted to do it and Mrs. Weasley was one of the smartest, loving persons Hermione knew. Maybe because the show would get her out of camping with her parents if she had to film that day.

She couldn't say no.

* * *

**A/N: Hello readers. Thanks so much for going till this point and to everyone that reviewed last time. As always, reviews are appreciated. I'm getting a bunch more alerts and stuff, but if you could find a few minutes to spare and review it would mean loads. **


	4. Chapter Four

_CHAPTER FOUR_

'Well' Francie decided, 'I guess the thing that is giving me this headache is life - and nothing else but.'  
~Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn~

It was time to fix things with Ron. As she watched the owl she had paid for at Diagon Alley's Owl Post soar off with her response to the Ministry letter, she felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders- for now anyway. She was going to cherish the last few days of privacy she'd have and spend it with her boyfriend, best friend, and family. But she had to fix the itty bitty problem with her boyfriend first.

After work, she Apparated over to Harry and Ron's place. She had checked in at the shop during her lunch break, but Ron wasn't there. George had spotted her wandering around the shop and told her. Now, standing outside the flat she'd only been to twice, she took a breath and then rang the doorbell.

"Yeah?" Harry's voice came through all scratchy.

"Hey, it's me, 'Mione. Buzz me up," She grinned. It was no shocker Harry could operate a doorbell, but Hermione wondered if Ron had learned yet.

They lived in a walkup and the halls were tiny, smelling distinctly of piss. It was like one of those bad movies with twenty somethings just starting out. She didn't remember this place looking so rundown the last time she'd come. But maybe they were all still too high on the prospects of graduation, new lives, freedom- that they hadn't noticed the shitty place they were getting.

Harry was waiting for her with his head poking out of the door. He opened it wide enough when she was closer. He slammed the door shut behind them so hard that a picture frame of the three of them shook. Hermione looked at him with a questioning glance and he explained, "We don't want to let the stench in."

She smiled, "There is a spell for that,"

"Not all of us are 'The Brightest Witch of Our Age,'" Ron's voice chimed in. She turned around, facing his glare. She rolled her eyes and muttered the spell, determined to be the bigger person. Here she was coming to try and make peace and Ron still wanted to be mad at her. There was no time to be angry, life was too short.

Harry sniffed. "Thanks, 'Mione. You're a lifesaver." She looked back at her friend and smiled brightly at him. "You want some tea?" He asked, going over to the stove and pouring steaming water from the kettle into two mugs.

"Sure," She said and Harry retrieved a third mug with a simple summoning spell. Hermione turned to her boyfriend, trusting Harry knew how she took her tea, and said, "Can we talk?"

He shrugged and walked away. She shut her eyes tightly in an effort to stay calm, before following him. The boys lived in a tiny flat. Right next to the front door was the kitchen and on the other side was a small living space. The bathroom was off to a corner, while there was one room that the boys had divided in half with a shower curtain to give them a side of the same room.

Hermione followed Ron to his "room" and cringed as she saw the mess. There were clothes strewn all over the place and some dirty dishes. She looked away and over at Harry's side, pleased to see it was slightly less dirty. There were no dishes, so that was nice. She sat down on the unmade bed gingerly and looked at Ron.

"I don't want to fight," She told him, hoping he'd listen to her. She watched him anxiously, studying his face for the slightest reactions. She saw his lips turn in on themselves, then he blinked a few times, before finally a small grin settled on his face. She felt herself release a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding.

"Okay, I forgive you,"

"Ron, I- wait. What? _You_ forgive_ me_?" She said, puzzled, staring at him in shock. She stood up from the bed slowly, crossing her arms.

"Yeah, I forgive you, 'Mione." He said, like he didn't notice her seething anger rising to the surface.

"I never apologised, Ronald. I didn't _DO_ anything wrong," She practically lost it, but fought to hold onto some control. She was going to be the bigger person, she was determined to _be the bigger person._ She was more mature, smarter and Ron was just a stupid, little boy. She had to tell herself these things so she could keep from yelling and she hadn't come over to yell.

Ron looked at her like she was the one with a mental block. "Look, 'Mione, you don't need to be embarrassed. I already accepted your apology. Lets just-"

"Ronald," She began, slowly, "think very, very carefully about what you want to say right now."

It seemed to click then. He took a step away from her and held his hands up. "Okay, um... 'Mione... I... I should have planned that date better. I should never just have whisked you off to Paris without the opportunity to see anything. I'm sorry."

She took a deep breath, relieved he wasn't as dumb as he looked. She smiled at him and walked over for a hug. Their bodies fit together and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him.

"You also didn't need to go blabbing to everyone like a little girl," She muttered in his ear and his body vibrated with his chuckle. His lips touched her forehead and she stayed there for awhile, just standing in his arms with his lips on her.

"Yeah, yeah," He muttered, pulling away from her. He planted a soft kiss on her lips and said, "Lets go back outside. Harry's probably worried you've killed me."

"I was considering it," She bumped her hip against him, taking his hand and leading him out of the room. She paused as he shut the door and turning back to him she said, "But please clean your room before I come over,"

"Yes, mum," He said with a roll of his eyes.

Harry was sitting on the couch with three steaming mugs of tea on the coffee table. He perked up when he saw them and sighed in relief. "Harry," Hermione said, taking a seat next to him, "how on earth do you share a room with him? It's disgusting."

Harry chuckled, "Been sharing my living space with him for years. Force of habit."

"Yeah, all right, Pick on Ron Day is now over." Ron said, dropping onto the beanbag by the window. Some of his tea sloshed out onto his shirt and Harry snorted while Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You make it too easy, mate," Harry grinned.

"You're the one that wanted this stupid beanbag thing." Ron muttered, rubbing his hand down his shirt like that would make the small black dots go away. Hermione was about to utter a spell when Ron haphazardly pulled his wand out of his pocket and said, "_Scourgify,"_

"I also wanted to move into his rubbish flat. Doesn't mean you had to go along with it," Harry mentioned, sipping his tea.

Ron rolled his eyes and looked out the window. Hermione tried to get comfy on the springy couch. She squirmed around, but nothing helped. She looked over at Harry who was grinning sheepishly and sighed. It would have been nice if he splurged on _something_. She knew he wanted them all to have a typical just out of school experience, complete with less than appealing accommodations, but this was kind of sad.

But she was still living at home with her parents, so she didn't really have the moral high ground to say anything.

She wasn't staying home just because she didn't have the money. It was a combination of that and just getting her parents back. At the height of the war she had taken their memories of her and their life together. Her parents moved to Australia and she had gone off to war with a chance of never coming back. As soon as the war ended, she Apparated to Australia and found her parents. They had spent the summer together before she went back to school for her final year. She had come back home for Christmas and New Years and hadn't seen them until graduation. She wasn't quite ready to leave when it felt like she had just gotten them back.

She'd let Harry have his rubbish piss smelling flat and uncomfortable furniture. After everything they all went through, he deserved to get whatever he wanted and if this was it, so be it. Eventually he'd become an auror and make his own money and he'd feel comfortable enough to do what he pleased with it.

It was time to tell them she had come to a decision about the show. She didn't even know if Mrs. Weasley had told Ron about the offer.

"So, um," She started, "Ron... did you hear about this new show the Ministry wants to do?"

Ron stiffened. He looked over at her, his lips drawn in a tight line. He nodded, "Mum wants to do it."

Harry glanced between them, "So you're doing it together?"

"'Mione got an offer?" Ron gasped, sitting up.

Hermione glared at him, "Why wouldn't I get a letter? I _am_ a muggle born. I fought in the war-"

"No," Ron shook his head, "That's not what I mean. I just- Merlin."

"Well," She cut him off, "I want to do it." She paused, looking at both of them. Harry sipped his tea and Ron looked less than thrilled. She wasn't sure what to do in the silence so she awkwardly added, "I'm just telling you."

Harry took it upon himself to break the silence, "So are you nervous?"

Before she could say anything, Ron sprang up and looked at his girlfriend. "This is the stupidest thing I've ever heard! What do you mean you want to do it? _Why?_ What in Merlin's pants would make you want to do this? It's going to be awful! A bunch of stuffy, nutters being forced to make nice with muggle borns. It's going to be a disaster!"

Hermione glared at him, "The Ministry is trying. So we should do our part, too. _And,_" She started, standing up as well, "you're a pure-blood too! Maybe there are others like you out there!"

"Where were they during the war? Huh? Where were they, Hermione? Merlin, you're always so optimistic and idealistic. Well, it doesn't always work out, okay? In the real world, you can't just change something like this with a bloody reality telly special!"

"How can we, when people like you don't want to try? It won't be easy and it won't be fun, but we need to try and take every option we're given! If I can even influence _one_ person, young, old, pure-blood, halfblood- I don't care! If I help someone, that will be worth it." Hermione's chest was rapidly falling up and down as she stood on her tiptoes.

After the bridge she and Ron had crossed moments ago, they were back to fighting. How could he be so closed minded? Harry didn't like the idea either, but he wasn't yelling at her for wanting to do it. She waited for him to shout back, but he didn't. He slammed his tea down and marched out of the flat. The door rattled behind him and Hermione fell back down onto the couch.

"It feels like we just fight all the time," She whispered, after a few moments of silence. Harry passed her his tea and she took the mug from him gratefully.

"It's just a phase..." Harry said, and she wondered where he had found that line from. "I mean, you're both getting used to this new thing and you both believe very strongly in... whatever you believe in." He added after a moment's thought, "And you two have always been fighting."

She cracked a smile, remembering all their fights at Hogwarts over the years. It was true. They had never really had the smoothest relationship. She had just thought it would be different now that they were older and dating. They'd had a wonderful last year at Hogwarts. It was almost like a dream. Maybe it was just all the stress of their new lives and getting settled into the roles they wanted.

"How are you and Ginny?" Hermione asked, trying to change the subject from her own love life to someone else's.

Harry blushed, uncomfortable talking about anything that was about him. She rolled her eyes and kicked his ankle. "Come on, Potter, don't be a prude."

He rolled his eyes, "It's fine... I mean, we just write letters. It's not very... romantic or anything. Definitely no Paris in our future," He joked.

"Not funny,"

* * *

Wilson Betemit stared at the new healthcare bill he had been given. He hadn't been able to focus the last few days- his mind was too preoccupied with the prejudice issue he was facing. This show- it had to work. He didn't know what he would do if it failed. He couldn't just lock a bunch of muggle borns and pure-bloods in a room full of dementors in hopes they'd all make nice.

He had put Marty in charge of the project. Young, inexperienced, stuttering Marty. Had he made a mistake? Should he have a put a more senior Ministry official in charge? This project was life or death, after all. But no. Marty was young- he had only been out of school a couple years. He knew what was "cool." He'd be able to find a way to make it interesting for all the young people.

But did sweaty, nervous, shirt tucked into trousers Marty really _know _what was cool? Did his age really matter? Marty looked like the type of guy that would never be caught dead drunk at a club doing whatever dance move was in. Wilson sighed, this was getting more and more convoluted in his head the more he agonised over it.

There was a knock on his door, making him look up quickly and act like he had been in fact studying the proposed healthcare bill. "Yes?" He called, picking up his quill and skewing up his features like he had important thoughts about the bill.

"Mr. Minister, sir, it's time for your meeting with the muggle prime minister." His assistant said.

Wilson sighed, "Cancel it. I'm in no mood for him. Send me Marty,"

"Marty?" His assistant asked, perplexed. "Minister, this meeting has been set up weeks in advanced. If you cancel-"

"Just do it," he ordered, irritated. The British prime minister annoyed him and Wilson would probably end up saying something insulting if he saw him in his current state of mind. The last thing they needed was a war with muggles.

His assistant nodded, scurrying out of the room. He pushed the binder with the proposed bill aside, waiting for Marty to arrive. Being the Minister of Magic was a pretty rubbish job, he thought, looking around his office. There were no pictures of his family or friends- probably since he was lacking in that department. He'd spent his whole life in politics, working for this day, and now that he was here, he wondered if it was worth it.

Marty poked his head in, snapping Wilson out of his pity party. "Ah, just the man I was waiting to see. How are things going with The Muggle-Pureblood Relations Program?"

Marty walked over and took a seat in front of the Minister's desk. His arms were full of files, his hair plastered against his forehead. Wilson winced as the files cascaded onto his desk, mixing in with his own papers.

"I've got a confirmed list of muggles and pure-bloods," Marty recalled, handing him a piece of paper. "We just need to start matching them up and come up with a shooting schedule."

"And script writers," Wilson put in, studying the list.

"Yeah- wait. What? Isn't this... reality television. Isn't the _reality_ part important?" Marty asked.

Wilson raised his eyes from the page. Simple, little, naive Marty. There was no way the pure-bloods were going to make nice with the muggle borns. The only reason they had agreed to it was because Wilson threatened all the ones he pardoned with a trip to Azkaban if they refused. Apparently Azkaban was worst than muggle borns. This show was supposed to fix things, after all. If they filmed the way they really treated each other, it wouldn't solve anything.

He thought about the best way to enlighten simpleton Marty to this. A part of him didn't want to crush the innocence in Marty. He saw himself reflected back at him, back when he was young and fresh, believing he could do anything- change the world. He now knew it wasn't easy and you couldn't always get there by doing the honourable thing. But another part of him was jealous of Marty's optimism and he was bitter.

He narrowed his eyes, leaning forward, "We can do whatever the bloody hell we want. That's what having power means."

Marty started to protest, he shook his head, "No, I can't-"

"What?" Wilson chuckled, leaning back in his seat and looking up at the ceiling in some sort of sick, twisted amusement. "Are you too good for this? You can't manipulate people- even if it's for their own good? Not everything is black and white, simple Marty. You're too young to see it, but when you reach my age, you'll have lived a hundred years in a short time. Politics changes you. You don't seem convinced," He chastised, looking at Marty's horrified face. "Let me put it in terms you'll understand then: Either you do it my way or I will have you fired and blacklisted from every job you ever attempt to get. Understood?"

Marty nodded. He would do it.

Wilson smiled.

* * *

**A/N The Malfoys make their appearance in the next chapter! I hope you're excited and ready to dive in :D Thanks to everyone that reviewed, it means so much. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated. **


	5. Chapter Five

_CHAPTER FIVE_

'Now you see' said the turtle, drifting back into the pond, 'why it is useless to cry. Your tears do not wash away your sorrows. They feed someone else's joy. And that is why you must learn to swallow your own tears.'  
~Amy Tan, The Joy Luck Club~

The owl came a week later. Hermione had been waiting for it since she agreed to do the show and got a confirmation letter telling her she would be matched with a pure-blood family shortly. And now it looked like that day had finally come. It was waiting in her room when she got home, exhausted from a day of work. Thankfully, Joy finally decided it was hot enough, so the air condition was now on at her job.

That didn't matter now. She dropped her bag and ran over, grabbing the letter. Reading the return address on the envelope just to be sure, her heart leapt at the confirmation it was indeed from the Ministry. She ripped it open, pulling the piece of parchment out. The envelope fluttered to the floor and Crookshanks sat down on top of it.

_Dear Ms. Granger,_

_We are so pleased once again that you have confirmed your spot on _The Muggle-Pureblood Relations Program_. It is our honour to inform you that the pure-blood family you will be spending time with is the Malfoys. _

She stopped reading, feeling her way back until she landed on her bed. It felt like her heart had stopped beating and her head was spinning. Was there a ringing in her ears? What was going on? Of all the pure-bloods to be matched with- could she still withdraw from the show?

THE MALFOYS? She felt like she was going to be sick. How could this have happened? It wasn't just because of her feud with Draco Malfoy- it was more than a petty schoolgirl fight. The Malfoys had _tortured_ her. Okay- Bellatrix Lestrange had, but she was related to the Malfoys and it had happened in their house and they hadn't done anything to help her. The Malfoys were the most prejudiced family in all of the United Kingdom. In all of the world, probably.

Why had they even agreed to this show, in the first place? Surely they had no interest in fixing anything. They probably were plotting away to keep Voldemort's "noble" quest going.

She looked back at the letter.

_Please report to the Ministry two weeks from today at two o'clock for a meeting with the participants of the show and the creators. There will be contracts and lawyers present. If you have any questions please feel free to owl me anytime._

_Sincerely,_

_Marty Biggs_

_Department of Transportation_

_The Muggle-Pureblood Relations Program creator_

No, no, no. This couldn't be the end. There had to be a way to change her family or drop out all together. She couldn't do it. The Malfoys made her feel sick. She felt bile in her throat- that wasn't natural. They made her skin crawl and the temperature in the room drop ten degrees.

She forgot the pity she had felt for them at the end of the war. The way they had huddled together and sobbed. She thought they had gone through a change of heart, a conversion, seen the error of their ways- whatever you wanted to call it. And then rumours came out that Lucius Malfoy had tried to buy his way out of Azkaban and she realised they hadn't changed at all.

"Honey, do you want to go out to dinner tonight?" She heard her mum say, from behind her closed door. She couldn't say anything, all her intelligence had vanished. She'd been reduced to a blubbering fish. _The Malfoys_ had done that to her. They had taken away all her confidence in a flash. She was back in the Manor, Bellatrix standing over her, screaming, "_Crucio!" _over and over again, occasionally throwing in, _"Filthy Mudblood! What else did you take? CRUCIO!"_

'Crucio' was pretty much the most important word. It may have been the only word Bellatrix liked saying.

Her whole body had been on fire. It was pain she had never experienced before. It felt like it would never end. She couldn't remember anything: who she was, why this was happening, what she had done... Her bones felt too big for her body, she was shaking, she had felt sick. She was convinced she would just pass out any moment. There were no physical reminders of that night, but she didn't think she would ever forget.

"Hermione, I asked you-" her mum stopped, her hand on the doorknob as she saw her daughter still as a statue on the bed. "Dear? What's wrong?" She came forward, sitting on her child's bed. Hermione didn't say anything, and so, like a worried mother, she reached over and ran her hand through her daughter's silky hair and read the letter in her hand.

She gasped.

The sound must have brought Hermione back to earth, because she turned to her mum and cried into her chest.

* * *

"You got Malfoy?" Ron shrieked, some time later, "We got Jenna Boyle! WHO in Merlin's pants, is JENNA BOYLE? Do you know a Jenna Boyle? I don't know a Jenna Boyle!"

"Ron," Harry muttered, trying to get Hermione to drink her tea, "I think Hermione's situation bares a little more importance."

Hermione had shown up at their flat, her face white as a ghost, her eyes red. She hadn't said a word, she just shoved a letter in Harry's chest. He had read it, confused and worried at her apparent breakdown. Seeing Malfoy's name made his mouth drop and he pulled Hermione into a hug as she let out another heart wrenching sob and collapsed against him. He had brought her to the couch, yelling for Ron who was steaming in his room with his own letter from the Ministry.

Apparently, Jenna Boyle was a rubbish name.

Harry had made her a cup of tea, while Ron came and sat with her, holding her in his arms and rubbing her back. He had been furious when he found out she'd be spending all her time with the Malfoys, but after awhile he got a little tired of her crying. Apparently, Ginny, the only experience he had with girls (besides Lavender), had never cried this much and he wasn't sure what to do.

Harry kept coaxing her to drink, eventually she did. The liquid trickled down, it didn't warm her since it had cooled significantly in her fit. She wiped her eyes and conjured a tissue, not bothering to reheat her drink.

"What do I do?" She asked, her voice hoarse, and it came out like a croak. She drank some more.

Ron said, "It's pretty obvious, isn't it? You quit."

She looked at Harry, unsure what she wanted to hear. She _did_ want to quit. Her whole body was telling her to run far away, to not spare a glance back. But a small part of her- the fighter part, the part that had _probably _gotten her sorted into Gryffindor and not Ravenclaw- told her to do it anyway. To not give into fear and show them she was stronger, and confident, and unafraid of them. Besides, the Ministry would be watching, she would never be alone with them. They couldn't hurt her anymore.

Ron noticed she wasn't agreeing with him. "Hermione-" his mouth dropped, "Wha-what? Are you- do you really want to keep going with this? Are you- Merlin, are you bonkers?"

She bit her lip and stared at Harry. "You know I was against this from the start," He said, his eyebrow raised. She nodded, a pit in her stomach forming. He was going to tell her to quit too. Her mother had told her the same thing. She knew the name- she knew what they had done to her. She didn't want her anywhere near them for whatever reason. Why would Harry tell her anything different? He hated the Malfoys just as much as anyone. Maybe more.

"When I went to give myself over to Voldemort... in the Forbidden Forest..." He started, looking down at the cushion on the couch. She narrowed her eyes in confusion- he was telling a story? Couldn't he just get to the point already and tell her to quit? "Voldemort used the Killing Curse and we both fell. When I came to..." He paused, grappling for words.

Hermione stared at him, transfixed. He had never told them about that night. He had refused to tell her what had gone on between them. Ron sat down on the beanbag, equally shocked.

"When I came to," He said again, his voice less shaky, "Narcissa Malfoy was supposed to tell Voldemort if I was alive or dead. She asked me if Draco was alive and I told her he was. And she told Voldemort I was dead." He looked up at their shocked faces and added, "Honest."

Narcissa had done that. And Draco hadn't been able to kill Dumbledore, according to Harry, also. Could it be the Malfoys weren't all bad? She looked at Harry and then at Ron, before turning back to Harry, saying, "So you want me to do it."

He met her eyes, and gave her one firm nod.

Ron exploded, "Mate, what are you talking about? This is complete bullshit! She can't- and you-!" He trailed off, looking between them, before storming back into his room.

Hermione sighed. "I'm doing it."

Two weeks later, it was time for her meeting. Her mum had insisted she bring her own lawyer and one of her friends for back up. Thankfully, Harry had a lawyer from when when he was making sure the landlord didn't rip him off, and was more than willing to tag along.

They separated at the loo. Hermione flinched, stepping into the toilet, and flushing as quickly as she could. They found each other inside quickly and made their way to the conference room. She was wearing a pencil skirt and a pink, flowy blouse she'd found in a muggle store. She looked _good_, in an intelligent, business woman kind of way. She straightened her hair that morning and it went just passed her shoulders. Her peep toes clicked as they hit the floor and Hermione felt her stomach churn as the door came into view.

She was going to come face to face with the Malfoys.

Harry opened the door for her, his eyes narrowing immediately. She knew they were there. His look spoke volumes more than his words ever could in that moment. She took a deep breath and then stepped in.

There they were. All three of them, dressed in black, sitting at the head of the table. Lucius' hair was pin straight and shiny, his face tight and his cane digging into the floor. Narcissa had her hair pinned back in a tight bun- to be honest, it looked like her face hurt, a lot. Draco's hair was gelled back, his face set, but he looked up as soon as she walked in.

His eyes were on her and she refused to look away, but the intensity of his gaze shocked her. The last time she saw him, he'd looked lonely- standing by himself at graduation. Now he looked- well... wild, unpredictable. His black dress shirt was buttoned to the top, washing out his already pale complexion. She felt self conscious as his eyes visibly went down her figure and back up. His grey eyes bore into her own once he'd finished his assessment and she glared at him. He had just checked her out and didn't even seemed ashamed at being caught.

Harry led her over to a spot by the window and they sat down. She felt like she was being watched. She looked over at the Malfoys as soon as she sat down and saw all three of them were eyeing her.

Harry turned to her, saying, "Good?"

"Yeah," She breathed, settling herself into the seat, "I'm good."

She felt confident in her outfit and sat up straight, proud of herself. "Ron should be here soon, yeah?" She added, trying to make conversation.

There was obvious tension in the room. Hermione glanced around, taking in who else was there. There were fraternal twins sitting by themselves across from them and they all smiled nervously at each other. The Greengrass family had also arrived, sitting across from the Malfoys at the other head, their two daughters on either side.

She looked at her watch. Gradually, the room filled up. Soon enough the Weasleys- Molly, Arthur, Percy, George, and Ron- arrived. They sat next to Hermione and Harry, greeting them all.

"Harry! Hermione!" George proclaimed loudly, giving them a hug at the same time. "Harry, do you remember when we picked you up for the World Cup years ago and we made your lumpy cousin's tongue swell with some candy?"

"Yes," Harry grinned. He'd never forget that day.

George turned to Hermione, "I was planning something for snake eyes, over there," He nodded towards the Malfoys with a charming smile, "but Mum searched me before we left. So, alas, I cannot defend your honour."

Hermione laughed and gave George a playful shove. Ron came up to her then, and said, "If anyone is going to be defending her honour, it's me."

She rolled her eyes, but nevertheless put her hands on either side of his face as he leaned in for a kiss. When they pulled away, she felt his hand slip under her blouse as he felt her wrist for his bracelet. He found it instantly, and the look he gave her nearly made her melt right there.

More people showed up. A pure-blood family from America also arrived followed by a lonesome girl, who had to be a muggle born. They were missing one more person to make it an even eight. Finally he showed up, he looked to be in his thirties, but he arrived with Wilson Betemit and a lanky, acne covered boy.

Hermione glanced at Harry, who shrugged back at her. The first thing Wilson said was, "Anyone _not_ doing the show, must leave now. There are some refreshments waiting outside. The whole meeting should last about an hour, so if you'd like to leave and come back, you may, just make sure you get stamped before you leave."

Harry and a few other people stood up.

When they were gone, Wilson addressed them all. Ron put his hand on her knee under the table, and it comforted her, especially since she thought she could still feel Draco Malfoy's gaze on her.

"Good morning to all of you. I'm so pleased you've all agreed to do this show." There were a few coughs from some of the pure-bloods in the room and Hermione wondered what that meant. Wilson shot them all a look and went on, "This is an important step forward in mending a very broken part of our society." His speech went on like that and after awhile; Hermione felt the urge to zone out. Finally he handed it over to Marty Biggs, who was apparently the mastermind behind this whole shebang.

Marty was wearing a bow tie, not that it mattered to her, but she noticed it because it wasn't something she saw so much anymore. She grinned to herself as Marty cleared his throat in apparent discomfort. His voice shook as he began, "W-we st-start filming ne-nex-t-t week. We ask that y-you have at le-least one m-meal together every we-week."

Wilson stood up, taking over from Marty. "Have fun together, take whoever you're with out- things you like to do when you have free time. Each week we'll assign one of you the job of planning your activities, week one will go to the muggle borns. Now, lets break up into your groups."

Hermione looked at Ron, sighing. It was time to go talk to the Malfoys. Ron kissed her forehead, glaring harshly over at the pale snakes as he did so.

"Be nice to Jenna Boyle," She told him.

"Don't be nice to The Amazing Bouncing Ferret," Ron muttered.

It became obvious the Malfoys weren't moving from their spot, so she gathered up her courage and dignity, walking over to them. She had no idea what she was going to say, she hoped something magical would come to her in the moment. Shockingly, Narcissa was no longer looking like her tight bun was pinching her face. She had a tentative smile on her lips- or who knew, maybe it was her hair, after all.

Either way, it gave Hermione the strength to grin. "Hello," She said, taking the seat next to Draco. She smoothed her skirt, looking away for a precious moment.

Lucius' nose was upturned, like he smelled something foul. She knew it wasn't her since she had used her cocoa butter lotion after her shower that morning, no matter what Lucius wanted to say. Draco didn't say anything and he had finally dropped his intense gaze. It was Narcissa that broke the tension by saying, "Hello, Hermione."

"Mrs. Malfoy," She greeted, determined to be the epitome of politeness. "How are you?"

Narcissa nodded, tight lipped. For all her effort at being civil, it was obvious Narcissa wasn't too sure how to proceed, either. "What do you have planned for us this week?"

She hadn't really thought of anything, to be honest, but she wasn't about to tell them all that. She had to come up with something quickly. "How about The British Museum?" She chastised herself right away- she should have been commanding. We _are_ going to the British Museum. But, no, she told herself. She wasn't like them. Kill 'em with kindness, she'd been taught. She may be borrowing some confidence that wasn't her own, but she would keep everything else.

Narcissa seemed nervous. "Will there be... muggles there?"

"Probably," Hermione grinned. She glanced at Draco, who seem positively revolted at being around muggles. Or maybe it was the idea of being in a place as classy and intellectual as a museum that had off put him. Either way, he looked ready to attack someone.

She risked a glance at Lucius. His hand was gripping the top of his cane so hard, he could have broken a wine glass with his death grip. She looked away, deciding to focus on Narcissa. It wasn't going as bad as it could have. At least Narcissa was trying- unlike _some_ people.

"What's there to see?" Narcissa asked, making light conversation. But maybe she was trying to gauge what to expect.

She was ashamed to admit how surprised she was by Narcissa's... it wasn't friendliness, but she wasn't completely shutting her out. She glanced over at Ron and the rest of the Weasley clan to see how they were making out with Jenna. Jenna Boyle, according to Ron, would probably be covered in boils like her name suggested. As Hermione found out, she was _actually_ very pretty. She had striking dirty blonde hair and her face was dusted in freckles. It didn't look like they were having a bad time at all.

Looking back at Narcissa, Hermione answered, "There's lots of stuff. I think there's a new exhibit about Shakespeare-" At their blank looks- mainly Narcissa, since she was the only one listening- she added, "The most famous writer in the whole world." It didn't seem to ring any bells, judging by Narcissa's face and Hermione felt her heart rate accelerating, "Plays, sonnets, he invented half of our _language!_ 'Romeo and Juliet,' 'Hamlet,' ... does any of this ring a bell?"

Narcissa blushed and shook her head. Lucius glanced at his wife, and his face hardened at the pink taint on her cheeks. "Do not," He hissed, "feel inferior by this _Mudblood's_ psycho babble about a dead writer."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Lucius and refused to let his words hurt her. She had been called a Mudblood all her life- mostly by the Malfoys. She knew the truth about who she was and she was proud of being a muggle born. Lucius and the rest of the pure-bloods could look down on her for all she cared, but she was a better person. She knew more than just magic- she knew science and literature. She could cook by herself and deviate from ingredients. She could change a lightbulb by herself. If something were to ever happen where she'd have to live without magic, she would be able to.

And Lucius Malfoy could never ever take that away from her.

"William Shakespeare," Hermione started, her voice hard, "is arguably the best writer that ever lived. And there is nothing wrong with learning about literature."

Lucius glared at her, crossing his arms, and mumbled like a child that had been told no cookies before dinner. Narcissa didn't say anything, although Hermione suspected she had more questions. She wished Narcissa would open up, and deny her husband for once. But it looked like she was shutting down. Hermione looked at Draco, hoping he might step up.

Sitting in his father's shadow, Draco didn't look like he'd be speaking up anytime soon- whether he was agreeing with his father or not.

* * *

**A/N Hi guys! Everyone back to school. I'm a senior, WOO. haha So, yes, there are the Malfoys! I hope you're enjoying. Let me know what you think, reviews are appreciated. :D**


	6. Chapter Six

_CHAPTER SIX_

'I don't want to be a man,' said Jace. 'I want to be an angst-ridden teenager who can't confront his own inner demons and takes it out verbally on other people instead.'  
'Well,' said Luke, 'you're doing a fantastic job.'  
~Cassandra Clare, City of Ashes~

Jenna Boyle, it turned out, graduated from Hogwarts with them. She was in Hufflepuff, which Ron decided made up for her awful surname. He had been going on and on about her at dinner that night. Harry had come with them and the three of them were stuffed in a booth at their favourite burger place.

When she said stuffed, it really only meant her. Harry was fine- he had the whole bench to himself. Ron, on the other hand, had slid in after her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, suffocating her- in a manner of speaking. She didn't know how to tell him to give her some space, especially when this was something couples did. Looking around at all the couples in the place, she saw they all were touching in some sort. All she wanted to so was sit in peace and study the menu, deciding what toppings she was putting on her Big Ben sized burger. Did Ron always have to be touching her?

It probably wasn't his fault, she rationalised. She'd had an intense day- what with the Malfoys and all that. And Ron had had a swell time getting on with Jenna Boyle and her stupid freckles and her Hufflepuff niceness or whatever they were known for. That was mean- she realized. There was no need for her to take out her her frustration on Jenna or all of Hufflepuff house. Besides Jenna had an internship at St. Mungo's in the paediatric wing. Jenna was probably someone Hermione wouldn't mind being friends with.

Harry kept shooting her furtive glances, like he was nervous for her mental health. She made sure her face was masked by the menu. After they had ordered and she no longer had the menu to hide behind, she tried to casually scoot away from Ron. Without him knowing, of course- hence the 'casual.' She felt Harry's eyes boring into her and instantly felt mortified at being caught. But how was Harry suppose to understand? His girlfriend was off at Hogwarts! They never fought! And when they were together rarely as it was, on account of the whole being apart thing, they usually just made out. So they had no need to fight because Hermione never much felt like fighting when she was making out with anyone either. Not that she had made out with anyone but Ron before.

Did Harry get her message? She was trying very hard to send it to him telepathically. What- he could see into Voldemort's mind, but not hers? What kind of sick irony was that?

Ron didn't seem to notice any of this, he was still going on an on about Jenna's love for muggle sports cars. She was taking them to a car show. Ron was excited, the only experience he'd really had with a car was the one his dad had tricked out to fly- which wasn't what most cars did anyway. And their flying car was also a pretty lame model. Jenna had brought pictures with them to the meeting and just like that she had all of them eating out of the palm of her hand.

Hermione mentally slapped herself again. Jenna was probably just being nice- prepared. She was just mad because she hadn't been prepared and she was with the Malfoys who wanted nothing to do with her or The British Museum _OR_ William Shakespeare. Jenna had gotten lucky. She was with the Weasleys, she'd have a great experience on this blasted show!

"How did your talk go?" Harry asked her, and Hermione realised they had stopped talking about Jenna. He knew how her meeting with the Malfoys had gone. As soon as they left the Ministry, she had told them all about it.

But since Ron had been going on about Jenna, Harry probably didn't want her to get the wrong idea. So she said, "Narcissa isn't too bad, I guess. Hopefully she'll be able to get away from Lucius at the museum- I think she really was interested."

"And that prick Malfoy?" Ron asked, taking a sip of his lemonade.

She knew he was talking about Draco. It was weird thinking of him in her head as Draco, but since she'd be having to spend time with all of the Malfoys, it would make sense to call them all by their names. She shrugged, "He didn't say anything."

She probably should have said more. This made it seem like she was hiding some big moment that had happened between them, but nothing had happened. There was honestly nothing to tell because he hadn't said a word about anything she'd said. There was the way he kept staring at her like she was an unknown bacteria he was studying under a microscope like a scientist, but it didn't seem important.

So she steered the conversation away from herself and then their food came. Hermione was ecstatic to see her Everest sized burger spilling over with grilled mushrooms. She was also thrilled that you needed two hands to eat a burger, so Ron would have to let go of her. And then she could bump him with her elbow and feign shock and he'd move over, giving her more room to eat. Because all Ron understood was food.

She saw his own burger bleeding the special, secret sauce Yolo's burger place used. She watched as he looked at his plate and then his arm around her shoulders. She bit her lip, waiting for him to move it. Instead he kept looking back between the two like he was in a real dilemma. She wanted to slap him and didn't have any qualms when she said, rather acidly, "Ronald, _move."_

He looked scandalised, pulling his arm away from her like he thought she would bite it if he kept it near her for another second. She might have. She was annoyed and starved and for some reason, everything agitated her. She didn't look at Harry as she bit into her burger, not ready to see whatever tsking look he had on his face.

"Someone's on their period," Ron muttered, bitting into his own early heart attack.

She saw Harry shaking his head, but it vaguely registered as she turned to Ron. "_What_ did you say?"

Ron chewed, swallowing before he said, "You're so mad about everything! Everything was fine, and then I took you to Paris and everything got so messed up!"

They were attracting an audience. Hermione saw all the girls shooting her nasty looks, so she said, rather desperately in a voice that didn't sound her own, "You did not take me to Paris! You took me to a _restaurant_ in _Paris!_ That's two VERY different things- and this has nothing to do with Paris!"

"Then what is it?" Ron prompted, looking at her like she was a stranger.

"Guys, maybe you want to do this later," Harry jumped in, a meaningful look plastered on his face.

Neither heard him as Hermione plowed on, "This is just me wanting space to eat without your giant bear hands everywhere! Do you realise how _exhausted _I am after everything?" She hadn't meant to bring up his bear hands and that him touching her annoyed her, since she thought about how she would feel if he said that to her, but it had just come pouring out. She couldn't stop herself as she said, "And you have stupid, pretty, Jenna Boyle and I have Malfoy-"

He cut her off, "I told you to quit! You were the one that was all," He flipped his imaginary hair over his shoulder and his voice went up a few octaves in what was a very bad impersonation of his girlfriend, "I'm going to be the bigger person and show Malfoy he can't boss me around and blah, blah, blah!"

"I don't sound like that!" She shrieked, indignantly, before adding, "And I did not say that!"

"Yeah, well," Ron muttered, he grabbed his burger and stood up. "I'm leaving!"

"Ron," Harry started, but stopped as his friend stalked out. Hermione sighed, her anger deflating at the sight of Ron walking away from her. She wanted to run after him and apologise for being such a bitch, but she couldn't. It was like she was glued to her seat, but the pain was there. She felt it everywhere and for a moment wondered if she'd lost him. She couldn't have- after all they'd been through. Years of fighting and hidden feelings... they couldn't fall apart at Yolo's Burger Joint.

Her legs felt wooden. She couldn't move as she stared at her burger.

Harry murmured, "Are you okay? You look like you're going to be sick..."

She shook her head, "I... I don't know. C-can we... go?"

Harry called for the waiter to have their food wrapped. The cold air woke her up a little, her thoughts became clearer.

"What happened in there?" Harry asked, as they walked down the empty street. He was holding their food in his hand, but the other was wrapped around her shoulder. "You're not going to yell at me, right?"

Hermione nudged him, but felt herself crack a smile. She muttered, "No,"

At her silence, Harry prompted her again, "Come on 'Mione... talk to me..."

"I just... I snapped. That's it," Hermione told him, "All the stress from this stupid Malfoy thing... to the pressure of getting a real job and getting my life together."

"I didn't know that was bothering you. I thought you liked living at home."

"I do," Hermione said, nodding her head, "But I can't do that forever, and I'm just... I don't know... scared?"

"Hermione, you're the bravest person I know." Harry squeezed her shoulder, "You're gonna be fine. You're smart and pretty and great. You're gonna figure out what you want, you don't need to worry about it."

Hermione sighed, "It's easy for you to say that. You know you want to be an auror and you got accepted to the training program. Your life is set, everything is coming together the way you want it. You have Ginny and a flat with your best mate and soon enough, your dream job. You don't get it,"

"Hermione," He used her full name again, and she worried he was about to get all deep and philosophical. "Me, and Ron, and even Ginny, we all believe in you. So do your parents. You have all of us if you ever need to lean on someone. Don't carry the stress. Unload some of it on us. We're all willing to help and one day you're gonna have the life you want, too."

* * *

Joy gave her off Tuesday to take the Malfoys to the museum. There were two men with cameras standing next to her, and one of them was asking her some questions while the other guy filmed her. She could feel several passerbys staring at her, probably wondering what they were filming and if she was anyone famous they should be taking pictures of.

"Are you nervous?"

"A little bit," She said, honestly, "I'm hoping they'll be open to learning about Shakespeare and seeing ancient artefacts and art. It isn't just muggle stuff, it's human stuff and we're all human even if some of us can do magic."

The guy gave her a thumbs up and then walked off to get some shots of the museum and the hordes of people milling around. Hermione looked around, seeing tourists with their maps and fanny packs, looking around nervously. There were tour groups with their over zealous directors holding umbrellas in the air so their group doesn't get lost. Their were kids taking classes in the museum walking by with their ids.

Finally she spotted the shiny blonde hair on Lucius' head billowing in the early morning breeze. She sighed, looking at her watch. They were ten minutes late. She took a bite of the muffin she had picked up from the tea shop around the block. The camera guys came back to her and started filming.

This was it.

"Morning," Hermione greeted.

Narcissa was wearing a summer dress, her hair up in its usual fashion. She gave Hermione a tight nod, and it was apparent she had listened to Lucius' opinion about how she should behave. Glancing at him, she saw he had his typical cane and a black cloak on, drawing attention to himself. Most people didn't walk around in _cloaks._ She looked at Draco, and was pleased to find he hadn't worn a cloak. Maybe he understood. No matter, he had on black jeans and a black t-shirt. His hair was slicked back with a snarky grin on his face.

"Okay," She added, when none of them said anything. "Lets go inside then."

Since the museum was free, there was no long admission line. She picked up a map for herself and then three extra. She turned to give them to her companions, but Lucius looked at it like it was a slimy toad that might croak loudly any moment. Draco looked bored, and when she cast a final glance at Narcissa, there was a spark in her eyes that said she wanted a map. But she didn't take it.

Hermione put two back and beckoned the Mafloys to go first. She slipped the map into Narcissa's bag before going in front of them. "There's an exhibit on Picasso, but I'm not really too fond of his work. If you would like to go see it, however..." She saw their blank faces, and realised they had also never heard of Picasso.

"He's a painter..." She explained, getting jostled by patrons as she slowed down to study the Malfoys. Lucius didn't seem to care as he looked around the place like he was better than everyone. Draco just looked bored and Hermione wondered if that was all he felt. She couldn't see the camera crew, but knew they must have been around somewhere.

"Well, there's an exhibit about horses," She tried again, "Some rock sculptures and clay among others. Mostly on Arabians and thoroughbreds. You do know what horses are, right? They look like thestrals." She hoped the mention of magical horses would perk them up, but Lucius' glare hardened. It was like he hated being told a muggle animal and a magical animal were alike.

She was surprised to see Draco seemed mildly interested at the prospect of seeing horses. "Okay," She said, "Um... horses it is, then. This way," She consulted her map, leading them through the main entrance. Luckily enough, the special exhibitions were near the entrance, so they reached it in no time. She was eager to step away from them and enjoy the art on her own.

Hopefully Narcissa would make the most of it and maybe Draco would too. Lucius walked around the room, his head held high, like he was better than everyone. He went and stood in a corner. She found the camera crew, one was on Draco's tail while the other went over to Lucius. Probably to try and coax him back over, since they were supposed to be bonding.

There was a giant rock sculpture in the middle of the room. Ancient art was so interesting, Hermione thought, walking over to admire it. There were no photos allowed, so Hermione studied it, detail by detail, trying to lock everything down in her mind. She could have stood there, looking at the same rock all day long. She read the card, seeing it was made by Persians and flipped through the pages of her mind to remember what she learned about the Persians back in muggle school.

She skirted around the room, feeling like she was being watched. She probably was, seeing as this was being filmed for a reality show. It made her self conscious and she touched her hair more times than a normal person should. She paused in front of small figurines made of gold. She wanted to reach out and touch it, she was sure it smooth as a glass plane, but she restrained herself. They looked like the mini horses she used to play with as a child, but obviously they were different, as she never had gold horses.

She hadn't even realised she and Draco had been standing side by side looking at the same thing. She didn't know who had been there first, but it didn't seem important. They stood silently, their eyes never wavering from the art. She wondered what he was thinking. Was he remembering his childhood also? It was possible he did own mini gold figurines of snakes, or whatever animal he had wanted. Or maybe he was just admiring the artistry. She stifled a laugh- it was highly unlikely Draco had ever found a piece of art beautiful. Or _admired _ a piece of art.

Whatever had held him to the spot, Hermione was curious about it. She thought about asking him something- as they were supposed to be building bridges. But she didn't know what was appropriate. Here was the boy that had called her a Mudblood and wished for her death in second year when the Chamber of Secrets had been opened. She had slapped him in third year. Their relationship hadn't gotten much better than that.

But she had to try, since she was the bigger person and that was what mature people did. She gritted her teeth and said, "Do you like-"

But he was already gone.

She spun around wildly, trying to spot his head in the crowd. He had disappeared without a sound while she was fighting her own mental battle. And she hadn't even noticed! She tried to compose herself, smoothing her dress. She wouldn't let him get to her.

* * *

Wilson Betemit sighed as he looked at the dailies from their first day of shooting. Most of what they had gotten was good- apart from the Greengrasses and the Malfoys. He shot a glare at Marty, "You better fix this. If we don't start getting some good material, we're hiring scriptwriters. So, _you_, better... _encourage_ them."

Marty nodded meekly. He'd encourage them.

* * *

**A/N Hey guuuuuys! I hope you're enjoying and thanks to everyone that reviewed the last time. I hope you like the quotes I chose to open every chapter- let me tell you, some of those were a bitch to dig up. And I hope you liked the museum scene and all that jazz. I need to go finish my astronomy paper now. Cheers guys! Reviews are veeery much appreciated. **


	7. Chapter Seven

_CHAPTER SEVEN_

'It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.'  
~Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities~

"How about we do something together?" Ron asked, a few nights later over the phone. Hermione couldn't fight the giddy grin ghosting over her face. She knew how much Ron hated Draco Malfoy, so for him to suggest they hang out together with him and Jenna Boyle, was a big deal. It was moments like this that reassured her Ron cared for her. He didn't need to take her out to eat in France. He just had to make her a beaded bracelet and offer to help her out with the Malfoys.

"I would love that, but do you think it will do any good? Malfoy doesn't exactly like you either. It might just increase the tension." She reasoned, thinking the situation over in her mind. She would have loved to have dinner with Ron around, but it might not help anyone but her.

She could practically see Ron shrugging on the other line. "Whatever you say,"

"But how about _we _get dinner Friday night?" She proposed.

"In England, right?" Ron joked.

She bit her lip, "I was thinking Prague, actually."

"Oh, Prague," Ron chimed, like he was considering the idea, "I hear it is lovely this time of the year."

She laughed, wishing they could continue this banter forever. She was so glad they had fallen back into a good place. She needed Ron now, his very presence calmed her. Most of the time. She felt like she was sixteen, hiding under the covers so her parents wouldn't know she was still up talking to her secret boyfriend. Of course she was up absurdly late, two in the morning, and she _was_ hiding from her parents under the covers hoping it would mask her voice since even though she was an adult, her parents would still come into her room and tell her to sleep. Of course, Ron wasn't her secret boyfriend, but in this moment it felt like he was and it was just them.

They talked a bit longer before she let a yawn slip and Ron panicked, worried he'd been keeping her up all night and bid her goodnight. She had work in the morning anyway, so it was probably better she slept. She knew they'd been filming her for a few hours at work, so she probably didn't want gaping eye bags. And Ron and Harry had their first auror training the day after, so they probably should have been stocking up on sleep.

"So how are things going with the show?" Her dad asked, over breakfast.

Hermione cut her omelet and glanced up at her dad. He usually read the newspaper, but this morning it was sitting untouched next to him. "We went to the museum the other day," She said, "I guess it could have gone worse, but it also could have gone better."

"How about the boy? What was his name again-"

"Draco," Hermione supplied, knowing her dad had a thing for helping downtrodden souls. It was the reason he used to volunteer at animal shelters when she was kid. It was why she had picked Crookshanks, the meanest looking cat in Diagon Alley. Everyone deserved a chance and with a little love, Crookshanks had warmed up to life. Well, everyone but Ron. You can't have everything, after all.

"Yes," Her dad nodded, "What about him?"

She shrugged, feeling herself blush a little. _What, _she scolded herself, _are you doing blushing? There's no reason to _blush! She looked at her dad, thankful to see he had been busy stirring his tea to notice her uncalled for reaction. "He liked the horses, I think. But he didn't say anything."

"Do you think there's a chance for him to change?"

He wasn't a puppy from a shelter, she wanted to tell her dad. But in her mind she was replaying everything she knew about Draco Malfoy and everything she had ever seen. He couldn't have been a bad person, deep down. He hadn't killed Dumbledore and he hadn't wanted to fight Harry in the Room of Requirement. But he hadn't been able to stand up to the Death Eaters. He had been caught between two sides, unable to find the courage to support either cause. He was a git and a prat, there was no denying that. But was he... was there even a word?

"There's a chance for everyone to change, isn't there?" She found herself saying.

Her dad smiled at her. "That's my girl."

She rolled her eyes, but felt her heart swell up at the praise. _That's my girl_, she smiled to herself. Had Lucius ever praised his son? Draco had always seemed like he was starving for any scrap of affection. She didn't want to spend so much time thinking about him. It was her dad's fault for bringing him up that early in the morning.

During her lunch break, Hermione went to find George at his shop. The snow was gone and when she questioned him about it, he shrugged telling her that it would lose its appeal if he did it everyday.

"How's Malfoy? Is he being a manky old prat?" George inquired, leaning against one of the shelves.

Hermione wanted to groan. Why was everyone asking her about the Malfoys? She had other stuff going on! They didn't take up every second of her life. She noticed the camera crew a few feet away and wondered if George even realised they were there, but it couldn't have been quite a shock since he was also a part of the show.

"Well, my dad thinks Draco is like an abused puppy. Lucius hates me, which is nothing new. And Narcissa might care if she could just get away from her husband." Hermione said, looking at a box of Dancing Pencils. She glanced at George, "Really?"

He shrugged at the product and said, "Did Ron tell you about maybe doing something together?"

She nodded, "Yeah, last night. So things must be good with Jenna, yeah? Did you have fun at the car show?"

George's face lit up like it was Christmas morning. "Those were so dumb cool muggle cars."

"Dumb... cool?" Hermione questioned, her nose scrunched up in disgust at the slang.

"What?" George asked, looking nervous. "Was that not the right use?"

She rolled her eyes, "I guess it is, but I never use it. I also hear the word 'mad' a lot."

"It was mad cool?" George asked, his eyebrows raising, "But that sounds dumb."

"My point, exactly," Hermione laughed. She felt the camera crew getting a little closer and George looked around like he sensed them moving in as well. She looked at George- he looked annoyed. "I guess I should start heading back,"

He smiled, "Okay, bye 'Mione," They hugged and Hermione had sinking feeling the camera crew was documenting everything. She hoped the Ministry wouldn't edit this into something it wasn't. There was nothing wrong with her hanging with her boyfriend's brother- and also one of her friends- during lunch break everyday. Besides, George had a girlfriend he loved very much and she was very happy in her own relationship.

When they pulled away, she saw George didn't look too happy with the camera men either. He waved as she left, taking her half of the camera crew back to Flourish and Blotts.

"So are you happy with your job?" One of the guys asked her, filming her setting up the new Hogwarts school books.

She nodded, using a box cutter to open the heaps of book packages. She didn't feel like using magic and had never used a box cutter before, so she was excited to try it out. She had used a Swiss army knife once before, but this was cooler. "I love books and Diagon Alley is a great place to be. I'm looking forward to just enjoying life for right now."

"Do you know what you want your career to be?"

"Not in so many words," She laughed, pulling out four books of The Standard Book of Spells Year One and setting them down on the table with a _thud_. "But I'm not too worried about it right now. Harry and Ron will be starting auror training tomorrow and they're both really chuffed about it. I don't have that passion for something yet."

"You're having dinner at the Malfoys' tomorrow night. Are you nervous? The last time you were at the Manor was a traumatic experience..."

Hermione tried to compose herself, hoping the horror of that night wasn't painted all over her face. Why did they have to ask her questions like this? They would be filming the whole ordeal, did they really need her to talk about it?

"I- um.. I'm hoping we can move forward and learn new things about each other." She said, diplomatically. The truth was, her stomach was doing flip flops all day long at the thought of stepping foot in Malfoy Manor for the second time in her life. She had no idea what to expect or how she was going to react. She didn't know how the Malfoys would be either. They hadn't been the most welcoming bunch and it wouldn't be like when they were at the museum. There they had the art and history to distract them- or at least, Hermione did. But dinner would either be talkative or silent and awkward. There would be no distractions.

Would dinner be served at the same table the Death Eaters used to have their meetings?

She shivered at the thought.

* * *

_'Mione,_

_I got your owl. Sorry it's taken me so long to get back to you. This summer program is so intense, I'm surprised you never elected to take it. I'm having a great time, but Gryffindor Tower is like a sauna! Anyway, enough about me. I can't believe so much has happened! Mum wrote me about it too, I kinda wish I was there to do it with you guys. So you're spending time with the Malfoys, eh? Listen, 'Mione, don't let them push you around and tell you that you're worth less than anyone._

_Are they as bad as we're all thinking they are? Or have they... learned something? Is that possible? I know Draco is a massive git, but... he was always was a good looking git. At least he _is _aesthetically pleasing to look at. I know, you and my brother are blissfully happy and in love or whatever, but we can all agree Draco Malfoy is a sexy bloke. Gosh, I can't believe I'm saying that! I should throw this out and start again. Don't get any ideas, missy. You'll break my poor, stupid brother's heart. I know you would never do that. _

_Anyway, just try to stay positive and don't give up. You're doing this to try and help change the world. It's noble. Hopefully people will listen and you will be able to teach the Malfoys something. Or maybe they'll have something to teach us. I doubt it, but maybe I'm biased since what happened in my first year. But if there's anyone can find something good in them, I know you're the best person for the job. _

_Cheers,_

_Ginny_

The letter was waiting for her on her bed when she got home from work. She felt like she was being watched- which she was since Ministry camera men were following her around all day and now crammed into her tiny bedroom.

Her mum had had a fit when she walked in with the crew behind her. She ran off, shrieking about her hair being unfit or something. She felt herself smiling at the letter and wondered if the camera people thought she was weird. "It's from Ginny," She explained, looking up at the camera, "She's doing a summer astronomy program at Hogwarts, so I haven't really heard from her much."

"What was the letter about?"

There was no way she was mentioning Draco Malfoy being a sexy bloke. She folded the letter and put it in her bureau. "Just giving me some words of encouragement." She waved the question off, hoping he wouldn't push her. "I'm going to get ready."

She pulled on black skinny jeans, strappy heels she had recently learned how to walk in, and a white blouse she had tucked into her trousers. She used a spell to straighten her hair, not willing to go through a battle with the hair dryer. She was nervous about dinner, her stomach churning at the thought. The last thing she wanted to do was eat. She'd rather have Lucius give her a personal tour of Azkaban.

She was supposed to be Apparating to the Malfoy home in Wiltshire. The manor loomed up in front of her. It almost looked like an old Southern plantation- she had seen plenty of them in her old social studies textbooks in elementary school and as she got older, in the film 'Gone With the Wind.' She doubted the Malfoys had seen 'Gone With the Wind.' They probably had no idea what the Civil War in America was. Maybe one day she'd teach them about it.

The sky was still bright, as was the custom in the summer. A part of her felt like it should have been dark, maybe because she associated the Manor with unhappiness and despair. For a moment it all came rushing back. The torture. The pain. Bellatrix's breath smelled like fire whiskey and cigarettes. Her throat had gone dry from screaming.

Escape.

The second it hit her, she was filled with confidence. She had _lived._ She had gone into Malfoy Manor and come back out. She had survived. This evening would be no problem. The cameras were practically in her face, but it all melted away as her entire being was filled with energy. She felt reinvigorated. She whipped out her phone to text Harry. He was her only friend with a muggle cell phone. Probably because he was the only one that had ever known what one was and like her, had been deprived his entire teenage life of one.

_Gonna be okay. xx :) Mione_

He was the only person, besides Ron, that understood what she was going through. She may have been physically tortured, but Ron had screeched bloody murder like every blast had hurt him. She hadn't been able to hear him then, but she had heard the recounts. And Harry had been hit with the spell before, besides being possessed by Voldemort when he was fifteen or frequently being pulled into Voldemort's mind. And then there was also all the pain his scar had caused him all his life.

She had spoken to Harry before she left her job earlier. He had asked her to help him find the most obscure book in the world (_Everything You Need to Know About Black Footed Penguins_ by Chester Bergenfield) so he could talk to her about the dinner with the Malfoys. She hadn't said much since the camera crew was there to film it all, but Harry was able to sense her tension over it.

She walked up the long driveway, noticing all the blooming flowers. There was a birdbath which gave her pause. She hadn't seen a real birdhouse in years. Who knew the _Malfoys_ would have one? Since when did they care about tiny birds bathing? Didn't all the Malfoys just want to rule the world and keep house elves enslaved? Did they have a house elf bath? She rolled her eyes at the thought.

Also- she didn't seen any cars. _Why_ did they have such a long driveway but no car? This was ridiculous. Finally, she reached the front door. Even that looked ancient and she wondered if this house really was built during the Civil War. The knockers were like the old round iron ones that you needed to pull. She spotted a doorbell.

A house elf greeted her. "Hello, miss. The Malfoys is expecting you." The huge door swung aside, letting her in and gave Hermione a full view of the elf. She was wearing what looked like a dirty pillow case and her ears were droopy. "My name-ses Puffy."

"Puffy," Hermione said, closing the door for herself so Puffy wouldn't have to, "Do you know you are entitled to a salary for all your hard work? Do the Malfoys treat you right? Don't be afraid to speak up."

Puffy looked at her like she had three heads. "You're like that bad Dobby. Puffy needs no _money_," The little elf stuck out her chest like she was proud of this, and then added, "He got what was coming to him, he did."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but was stopped by a cold laugh. She looked up, startled to see Draco Malfoy in all black, standing in the middle of a grand staircase. "Granger, you never change. Still on about that SPEW thing, are you?"

She hid the fact that she was surprised he even remembered the name of her house elf campaign back at school. Instead she retorted hotly, "It's not SPEW. It's S-P-E-W and it stands for-"

"I know what it stands for," He cut her off with a wave of his hand, and continued down the few steps. She watched him angrily, crossing her arms. He moved fluidly, like he knew every inch of this house like the back of his hand. He could have probably walked around it blind. She would have crashed into the bust of Armand Malfoy- who she knew was considered the first of their name- over by the window or stubbed her toe on the radiator.

For a horrible moment, Ginny's remark about him being sexy came back to her. She paled, why was she thinking about that? Because of the way he looked too good in all black? Or how confidently he moved about his house- his natural habitat? Was it because she had never seen someone look that sure of themselves, like that day at the meeting when he'd blatantly checked her out? Or because she was remembering how he had studied the golden horse at the museum with such intensity it was like he was etching every curve into his mind? What was going on?

And worst of all: why did he know what S.P.E.W. stood for? He never seemed to care before. Did that make him sexy? She doubted Ron knew what it stood for. He had spent the whole year walking around all year calling it SPEW when he knew perfectly well it was S.P.E.W..

"Are you the welcoming committee?" She asked, hoping he couldn't read her mind. Worse, what if he could read her expression? Was her sudden thought of him being sexy painted all over her? She tried to draw her lips into a tight line and hoped he hadn't noticed anything. Hopefully the camera people hadn't noticed anything, either.

Puffy turned to Draco and said, "Dinner-ses almost ready, sir."

Draco looked away from her and nodded at the elf. "Good."

The elf disappeared with a pop. Hermione glared at Draco, "You could have said thank you."

"For telling me dinner was almost ready?" He rolled his eyes, and then turned back to the stairs, "Come on, Granger. They're waiting for you in the study." He didn't look to see if she was following him as he went back up the stairs.

She followed him, making sure to stay a few paces behind him. The place looked different since the last time she'd been there. Maybe they'd remodelled. Or the last time she had been dragged in as a hostage and tortured. She hadn't really been able to look around. It was bright and not as cold as she remembered. Maybe it really hadn't been as cavelike as she had thought. It was a home after all, with people that (supposedly) loved each other. Draco had to have good memories here. Maybe she was clouded by her bad experience. Perhaps she was wrong about this place. Maybe what she remembered wasn't really what had happened. What she remembered was what happened.

And yes, she'd been tortured. But maybe the _place_, itself, wasn't that bad. She tried to stop thinking too much and by doing that, her eyes strayed to Draco's perfectly formed butt. His dress shirt was tucked into his dress trousers, giving her ample view. She was scandalised and started blushing furiously, shoving every inappropriate thought away. And it was all being caught on film. To make it worst, the amount of cameras were doubled as the entourage following her was now joined by Draco's own set of cameras.

_Curse, Ginny, _she thought.

Finally, they arrived at the study. She stopped in the doorway, stunned by the giant bookshelves. They towered over everything the room, shooting up into the ceiling. It was like being in a forest of evergreens. They dwarfed everything. And each shelf was stacked with spines of books. She couldn't help herself from going to investigate. There were spell books, history books, books about magical creatures, the evolution of brooms, magical law books, even a cook book- the one by Molly Tanker that was being promoted at her job.

"Granger," Draco called, "this way,"

She turned, slowly, still in a trance by all the books. Draco was standing a whole length away from her, looking not at all surprised by her reaction. She thought he almost looked like he wanted to smile, but then pushed it away. Why would Draco Malfoy ever smile, and at her, for that matter?

She caught something out of the side of her eyes. On a table was a leather bound book. It was thick and she wandered over to it without realising. What she saw on the cover made her breath hitch: _The Complete Works of William Shakespeare_.

She looked at Draco.

He understood her silent question. "Mum wanted it. So dad went out and found one." He understood her next silent question and went on, "He owes her for the whole Death Eater thing and turning our home into a-" He paused, as if contemplating his words, then said, "Well, you were here. Come on."

That was probably the longest civil conversation she'd ever had with him, and she hadn't said an entire thing the whole time. She followed him down the aisles of books until she found what looked like a reading circle. Lucius and Narcissa were sitting on love seats, surrounded by their own cameras. At their arrival, half of the cameras left, giving the room more space.

Narcissa smiled at Hermione, "Good evening, Hermione."

"Hi," She greeted, glancing at Draco. She looked at Lucius, then, seeing he was the most unhappy person in the room.

"Please, sit," Narcissa went on, extending her arm out to the love seat next to her. Hermione sat and saw Draco took the chair next to her. The circle was filled, although it looked more like a square.

"Puffy said dinner is almost ready," Draco relayed, reaching to the table in the centre. There was a platter of finger sized vegetables and a few books. He retrieved a battered looking one and a baby carrot.

"Draco," Narcissa chastised, "we have guests." She looked meaningfully at Hermione.

Draco glanced at her. Again his eyes shamelessly glanced her over before he shrugged and said, "She won't mind," He turned to look at her her, catching her off-guard, "Will you, Granger?"

She shook her head, breathless. It was like she walked into a parallel universe. The Malfoys had a study full of books. The Manor didn't feel like a torture chamber. Lucius had bought his wife a book of Shakespeare. Draco didn't sneer at her. Well- there was still time for that one to change. But he was sitting there, eating baby carrots and reading his book. His eyes danced over the words and every few minutes he'd turn a page and reach for another carrot. What was happening?

Narcissa sighed, like this was the greatest sin her son could have done. She looked back at Hermione and said, "Did you go to work today?"

"Yes, I did." She tried to be comfortable with the small talk, but her mind was in overdrive trying to make sense of everything. Her legs were nearly bouncing and her fingers played with each other as she tried to keep it together.

"How long do you see yourself working at Flourish and Blotts?" Narcissa went on.

"I'm not sure," Hermione said, finding herself answering the same question for the millionth time. "I'm kind of just taking it one step at a time until I find something I care about."

"Draco just got an internship at a dragon reserve in Scotland." Narcissa boasted, proudly. "He's always been fascinated with them."

At the mention of his name, Draco looked over at his mum with the usual face a kid gives their parents when they start bragging. Hermione was sure she had used that look hundreds of times when her parents went on about her straight As. He glanced at Hermione, shrugged, and went back to his book.

"That's fantastic," She said. "When do you leave?"

He looked at her and then back at his book, "Next month."

"I was thinking of going to university. You know, muggle school." She said. The moment the words left her lips, she was shocked. She _had_ been thinking that, but she hadn't admitted that to anyone before. Why was she telling the Malfoys this? She should have been telling her parents first, or Ron, even Harry.

What in Merlin's name had possessed her to go and drop a bomb like that now? Hadn't she really gotten that frazzled at the thought of Draco Malfoy getting his life together while she just twiddled her thumbs away at Flourish and Blotts?

Narcissa's eyes widened and she nodded her head. "And what what do your parents think of that? What do they do again?"

"Oh... erm," She struggled, praying no one noticed, "they're thrilled. Oh, and they're dentists. They... fix people's teeth."

She was transported back to Hogwarts when her teeth had grown. Draco had meant to hit Harry, but he missed. She felt herself heating up and wondered if Draco was remembering. He probably wasn't. He seemed too into his book to be paying attention to what was going on. Her teeth growing had been awful, what might have been worst was when she got home and her parents had marvelled at how it had been done- since she had Madame Pomfrey return her buckteeth to their not so much original size.

Puffy zapped into the room, a cloud of smoke floating up in the air like a tribal dance. "Dinner-ses ready."

Lucius stood up, practically running from the room. He had spent the whole conversation staring at his feet. Draco shut the book lazily, folding the corner of the page he was on. He stole on last carrot and left the book on the chair he vacated. He didn't glance at her as he followed in his dad's wake.

Narcissa led her to the dining area. She expected a long table, but was shocked to find a much smaller set up. This confirmed it, she really was in a parallel universe. There was no way the Malfoys sat down to dinner at a tiny, square table similar to the one in her own home.

Narcissa noticed her fish out of water face. "We- I- made a lot of changes in how this household was run after the war."

Draco and Lucius were already sitting at the table, putting their napkins on their lap. Hermione glanced at them as she sat down. They were the linen ones she only used at a restaurant. She followed suit, her mind trying to find a time she ever saw Draco put a napkin in his lap at school. Their meal started with a salad and she seasoned hers with olive oil and vinegar. Everyone else, on the other hand, had a dressing of their choice. Draco, she couldn't help but noticing, drowned his with French. It was reminiscent of the way she slathered her pancakes with syrup.

This place really _was _like a restaurant, she realised. An assortment of salad dressings, cloth napkins, house elves as the waiters. Maybe some things had changed, but the Malfoys still lived like kings, epicureans, connoisseurs- she knew so many words. Bon vivant. She felt like she had been transported into another dimension.

"So, Hermione, tell us about university." Narcissa said, "What is it like?"

"Oh, um," Hermione started, "You get to study whatever you want. English, music, history... you get a degree and it helps you get a job."

"Fascinating," Narcissa said, and she actually seemed impressed. "What would you take?"

"When I was younger, I wanted to be a teacher. I don't know..." She admitted, "There's so many options. I don't even know where I'd study. Maybe in the states or over in Italy."

"That's so exciting." Narcissa beamed. Hermione was shocked Lucius hadn't stepped in by now- he seemed like he was controlling himself. What had Narcissa said to him? There was a copy of Shakespeare in their study, after all.

Draco's plate was empty, even devoid of all that orange dressing. He was leaning back in his chair, his arm stretched out on the table as he looked at her. Narcissa chastised him and he moved his arm without tearing his eyes from her.

What was going on?

It was like Hogwarts, food appearing on the table instantly. One minute she was looking at her empty salad bowl, and then it was gone, replaced by a plate of grilled pork chops and rice. She hoped the conversation would shift from her.

"So, um, how about you guys? I was at work all day... what did you do?"

"Oh," Narcissa sighed, "Draco read that blasted book all day. I had to rip it away to get him to get ready for tonight. He's always reading."

Hermione looked at him dubiously as Narcissa rattled on about how she spent her day at a ballroom dance class. Draco Malfoy reading all day? This was news to her. He had never once seemed interested in school. Quidditch, maybe, and she never saw him in the library. But then again, he was never around when she tutored someone surrounded by all the other peer tutors. He clearly had solid enough grades to not need extra help. And judging by that study, there was no shortage of books at the Manor.

Draco sent her a very sly, barely there, subtle smirk.

She cut her pork.

* * *

**A/N Hello everyone! Anyone? Who knows. I hear so little from you guys, so I just want to take a moment and THANK: Loveable Leo and Taylor F who have reviewed every chapter. I also wanna thank pirate-princess1, CrescentMoon12, and LadyBookworm80 who I've heard from a few times. Thank you so much, you make my day brighter. Now, I'm in the middle of revising college essays, so I must go. I hope you keep reading and enjoying. As always reviews are appreciated. **


	8. Chapter Eight

_CHAPTER EIGHT_

'The most difficult thing to read is time. Maybe because it changes so many things.'  
~Erin Morgenstern, The Night Circus~

"The Olympics," Hermione explained, for what seemed like the millionth time, "it happens every four years. Each country forms a team of their best athletes and everyone competes to see who is the best."

"That is the most preposterous thing I've ever heard." Draco drawled, for also the millionth time, not lifting his head from the new book he'd been reading.

"It is not!" She protested, a part of her just wanting to snatch that stupid book from his hand and smack the back of his head with it. Or the front so he'd get a black eye and be less pleasing to look at. Or maybe he'd still look drop dead good. "It takes years of training and dedication! And then there's all the different events: gymnastics, swimming, ice skating, skiing... it's amazing."

"Well, Granger, why don't you do it then, if its so fascinating," He turned the page, running a hand through his hair.

"I can't just compete! Besides the fact that I haven't been training _my entire life_**_,_** there's other... STUFF involved. There's qualifying and then the Olympic trials, and, and are you even listening to me?" She huffed, crossing her arms as she leaned back in the love seat that had basically become hers in the Malfoys' study.

"Yes, Granger," He sighed, "'Stuff,' very articulate you are today."

She glared at him. Their conversations usually went something like this. Not that they had many a conversations, but the show had kind of forced them together. And since Narcissa was the only one attempting to play by the rules, a meeting had been called at the Ministry specifically for them. Wilson Betemit had personally scolded Draco and his father for not getting with the program. He'd also sent Marty along- the pimply kid that had created the show- to all their get togethers to supervise and make sure they were getting plenty of good material.

"Furthermore," Draco went on, "we don't even have a tele-whatever the Olympeds are shown on, so-"

"Television," Hermione interrupted. She knew he knew the right word, he was just refusing to say it properly. "And it's the _Olympics_. Isn't the Ministry mandating that everyone buy a telly now because of this show?" She didn't have to gesture to the cameras in the room, tapping their every move.

Draco shrugged, "Something like that. I don't know."

Narcissa came back into the room, Lucius trailing behind her looking glum. He was levitating a glass pitcher filled with lemonade. Narcissa had four glasses in the air and they each floated down onto the table between the chairs.

"Hermione, I'm so glad you introduced us to this muggle drink. It is divine," Narcissa praised, using her wand to pour herself a glass. She then did the same to everyone's glass and Hermione felt a little out of place since she had planning to pour herself a glass without the aid of magic. It wasn't an uncommon feeling since she'd started seeing the Malfoys. Every time Draco would finish a book in his chair, he'd simply send it back to the shelf with a wave of his wand and retrieve a new one with magic.

She smiled, never having heard someone refer to lemonade as divine. She took a sip and then glanced at her watch. "Well, I have to go now. I have dinner plans with Ron, but I'll see you tomorrow night, yes?" She said, standing up.

She wished she didn't have to- see them tomorrow night. For dinner. At her house. With her parents.

Draco looked up at her at the mention of Ron. She couldn't read his expression, not that she ever could before, but she had gotten quite good at knowing when he was saying stuff just to rile her up, like his S.P.E.W. comment the night she came to dinner or just now, mispronouncing Olympics on purpose.

She looked away, feeling uncomfortable, for a reason she couldn't pinpoint. She said goodbye to Narcissa and Draco- who responded with a grunt as his eyes went back to the book- and then turned to leave the study.

"Lucius, why don't you walk her out," A new voice said, and Hermione spun around, seeing Marty sending a meaningful look at the older wizard. She could tell Lucius was weighing how likely he'd be able to _Avada_ the bloke and get away with it. The chances obviously weren't good, since he stood up and walked in front of her quickly.

She followed him, even though by this point, she'd been to the Manor three times and knew her way from the door to the study and vice versa. She'd never seen the room they brought her to the night she'd been tortured and wondered where it was and if it still looked how she remembered it.

"Say something," Marty prompted, breaking the quiet that had existed between their feet hitting the hall.

Lucius shot Marty a chilling glare that would have stopped even the bravest of souls, but he turned to her and said, "Mud- Granger," He coughed before going on, "have a nice day,"

"Have a nice day?" Marty said, before Hermione had a chance to thank him. "What is that? I need something better from you."

Hermione glanced at Marty. This was the first time she had experienced being directed. So it was true what they said about reality tv. Lucius looked ready to throttle someone, but he turned back to Hermione and said, "We look forward to meeting your parents tomorrow evening."

Thankfully they reached the door and Hermione fled before Marty could make Lucius do anything else. She was already dressed for dinner, so she Apparated from the Manor in Wiltshire to the centre of London, where she was meeting Ron for dinner. He was easy to spot, besides his flaming hair, but his own camera crew formed a donut around him.

She weaved through the crowd, her heart pounding in anticipation of seeing him. She couldn't help smiling as she bumped into people and she didn't spare a glance to see how the camera crew was fairing. Ron wrapped her in his arms as soon as she was close enough and then kissed her sweetly, making her world turn upside down.

"I already ordered the spinach dip to start," Ron grinned, "I figured you'd be hungry,"

"Thank, Merlin," She smiled, taking his hand across the table. She could feel several patrons staring at them and this time she was glad it was because of the cameras and not because they were fighting. She was also ecstatic, for a moment, that all Ron thought about was food.

After they ordered, Ron launched into stories about his first week of auror training. He talked with his hands, so obviously thrilled at his lifelong dream finally coming true. She listened raptly, grateful to be in conversation with someone that cared compared with Draco who would stare at his book and make sarcastic comments just to annoy her. Her eyes widened when she realised she was comparing her boyfriend to Draco.

What was she doing? What was wrong with her? Why was she even thinking about Draco now? She pushed everything away and tried to get back into the story Ron was telling her about Harry attacking the wrong target and blowing the whole exercise. On the bright side, at least Ron was _winning_ the comparison. But that was no excuse.

She dunked a chip into the dip and shoved it into her mouth, trying to focus on nothing but chewing. Then she'd look up and be back in tune with Ron. It worked and in no time he was listening to her talk about how Joy dropped a box of books on the floor when she tried to do manual labor instead of using magic- as had been Hermione's suggestion.

"I don't think she's ever letting go of her wand again," Hermione smiled, "But enough about work. I feel like I haven't seen you at all," She squeezed his hand, smiling flirtatiously at him- at least, that's what she was trying to do, but she wasn't sure how well it came across, since Ron looked around the restaurant and muttered something about the waiter and their food taking awhile.

"Tell me what's been going on with you," She went on, stroking his hand.

Ron smiled at her, "Just training and the show, pretty much. Oh, I got a letter from Gin the other day. She said you were right about the Paris fight."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "You even told your sister about it? Who didn't you tell?"

He chuckled, but Hermione noticed a faint blush tainting his cheeks. "McGonagall? I definitely didn't tell her."

"What a relief," She grinned, "Of all the people that I didn't want to know, McGonagall was definitely number one."

"I can read your mind," He smiled, leaning in to kiss. She happily met him halfway, her whole body tingling. Ron cupped her face with one hand, holding her there. His lips were soft and it felt like he was kissing away any doubts she might have had.

Once she had pulled back, she blushed seeing the cameras capturing every moment. She looked at the napkin in her lap and then glanced at Ron. He was beaming down at her, completely unfazed by their audience and future audience if that footage was ever used.

They went back to her house after dinner. Her mother had baked cookies that afternoon, so there was a fresh plate out on the coffee table for them all to enjoy. Hermione couldn't remember the last time she had been this at ease. She fit perfectly against Ron's side, except for that one sharp bone in his side that would dig into her, but if she shifted a certain way it was fine. His arm was around her shoulders and every so often she'd feel his head drift down onto hers. Her parents were sitting on two love seats opposite the couch.

Her mum was smiling and so she couldn't help smiling as she sat next to Ron, the one boy that had caused so much frustration, heartache... but here they were. It was hard to imagine, but looking back on it, she felt like everything was leading her right to this moment.

Ron and her dad were talking about auror training, not that her dad could relate- being a dentist and all. It was a miracle he was even home_ and_ awake. Usually he was at his office late working on his keynote speech for this huge dentist convention or, if he actually managed to come home at a decent hour, he was sound asleep, fuelling up for another long day of work and speech writing.

Her dad laughed at something Ron said, bringing her out of her memories. She was in the middle of remembering how sad she'd been fourth year when Ron never asked her to the Yule Ball. But then Viktor Krum had asked her. _Viktor Krum_, an older, professional Quidditch player. He was also easy on the eyes. But of course Ron couldn't give her that one night after he hadn't manned up and ask her. He'd left her crying on the steps.

And here they were now.

She elbowed him. He looked down her her, "Ow,"

"That was for fourth year," She told him.

"What- oh." She saw understanding flash in his eyes and then he blushed. "Sorry."

"Good," She muttered, "Ruined my night."

"I ruined mine as well, if that makes you feel any better," He whispered into her hair, planting a kiss on the back of her head. He reached forward for a cookie before she could say anything, breaking the moment. She looked around the room, seeing three cameras. They never left her alone. Her mum had been ready for them tonight, her hair styled and her clothes free of any stains.

"So, Ron," her mum started, "Hermione said your family is planning a trip to Romania,"

"Yeah, they are. To visit my brother, Charlie. I don't know if I'll be able to go."

"Now, you said he works with _dragons_?" Her dad asked, pushing his glasses up.

Ron nodded.

They said goodnight a few hours later. It was amazing how late they had all stayed up talking. About everything: family, politics (Ron was a little rusty on the muggle elections, so he listened), world records (apparently someone had walked a tightrope across Niagara Falls), and the new book in the Red Books series- Hermione had made sure Ron read the book since it was something she and her parents had in common.

Ron and her hovered in the doorway, their hands clasped as she leaned into him. "I wish you could stay," She murmured.

He groaned, "Stop making that face at me or I won't be able to go,"

"What face?" She asked, innocently.

"The one where you look like you _really_ want to push the boundaries." He said, dropping his forehead onto hers.

She sighed and then pulled back. "One of us needs to be the strong one. Go."

He kissed her cheek before Apparating.

* * *

George met her at Florean's for ice cream in Diagon Alley during her lunch break. Hanging out with George, it seemed, had become her ritual at lunch. Which was great, he was fun and a good friend. He also knew more about politics than he'd let on. Hermione had grown up thinking George and his crafty twin only cared about pranks. But, it turned out, George had more on his mind than just making up ways to fake an illness.

They had The Daily Prophet spread out between them on the table. The cover was something about a genius dog that could play the piano, but the pair of them had skipped ahead to the pages about the campaign. The Ministry was in the midst having elections for new judges. Since the war, the whole Ministry had gone through a one eighty. Besides just firing people, elections were put in place to ensure the people got a fair voice in the Ministry. They were hoping to give house elves a vote and werewolves so no one group could have more power over the others.

Judges were extremely important since there had been so many trials going on after the war. Death Eaters had to be locked up- but unfortunately, so many had been able to just pay off those in charge. This election was supposed to correct that. Not that those that had gone free- like the Malfoys- would be called back to court. There was a law called double jeopardy that prevented anyone from being tried for the same crime twice. It had been adapted from the muggle form of government, and received outcry from everyone that wanted to retry suspected- known- Death Eaters that had walked. A lot of wizards had walked away defeated, fuming about muggle law and about how they didn't see why had to follow suit.

Politics in the wizarding world were tense, to say the least.

"But this Faraway character just wants the power. Look at his past jobs- personal lawyer for the Lestranges. Jackson, on the other hand, represented low income families and werewolves." George said passionately.

"I'm not discrediting Jackson, but Faraway made an amazing speech the other day. Can we really hold one mistake he made against him forever? He only worked for the Lestranges for a year and refused to represent them when Rodolphus was brought up on charges of attacking muggle borns outside a bar." Hermione argued, her ice cream half gone in the heat. The umbrella above them wasn't helping at all.

"Then how do you explain Faraway saying he wants to see double jeopardy upheld? It lets all his old friends walk." George was clearly not a fan of double jeopardy.

Hermione, though, had a different opinion and it had nothing to do with growing up around muggles and watching crime shows. "Double jeopardy is important! It encourages the prosecution to build a very strong, solid case before going to trial. They only have one chance. And it protects the defendant too. Imagine if you were suspected of a murder you didn't commit and you were acquitted. But then the prosecution finds another piece of flimsy evidence and hauls everyone back into court, only to get acquitted again! This process could go on and on and on. And if you really didn't do it, then no one is investigating for the real murderer and that person just gets to walk. The prosecution needs to take the time to check out every corner and have an air tight case, or else they'll just let people that should be in jail walk.

"But double jeopardy isn't the real problem. Hardly _anyone_ was tried for war crimes. All the pure-bloods that could afford it, paid off the head officials. Some cut deals and served a night in Azkaban. Others gave up names and were let go. That's what needs to change. There needs to be people in charge that want to be in power for the right reasons."

She hoped George understood. She watched as he contemplated what she said. She was glad, Ron would have just burst right in in the middle of her speech and said whatever he wanted too. George was mulling it all over, she saw, in the way he ran his hand over his face and then groaned.

"You make a good point. But I still like Jackson." He finally said.

"Fine. We'll continue this tomorrow," Hermione laughed, standing up to get her stuff and go back to work.

"You should run for something," George said from behind her.

She turned around, the ice cream cup falling into the garbage. "What?"

"You could run for something in the Ministry, Mione. You'd want it for the right reasons." He smiled, "Think about it,"

She rolled her eyes and went back to Flourish and Blotts. Run for something, she mused, that was crazy. She'd never studied political science in her life. But if she _did_ go to university, she'd have the whole world at her feet. Besides, what qualifications did the people running the Ministry even have? They all graduated from Hogwarts and that was the end of it. Maybe that's why no one knew what they were doing.

* * *

**A/N Hi! Wow! You guys blew me away. That was the most reviews this story has gotten per chapter. Thank you! You all want shout-outs, I take it? If I do shout-outs, will you keep reviewing? I like hearing from you :D And I was curious, have any of you guys read the books I've taken opening quotes from? Tell me! I hope you liked this chapter :D Cheers**

**And how excited are you for JRK's new book? Oh my gosh. It's so soon! Mine is pre-ordered and I'm anxiously waiting!**

**Thanks to: FuryPossessed, LadyBookworm80, Loveable Leo, Taylor F, imawitchywolfgirl, megan59, itrSARAHtops1412, zzshilahzz, and pirate-princess1. :D **


	9. Chapter Nine

_CHAPTER NINE_

'The weird thing about houses is that they almost always look like nothing is happening inside of them, even though they contain most of our lives. I wondered if that was sort of the point of architecture.'  
~John Green, The Fault in Our Stars~

Her talk with George had managed to push her impending dinner plans with the Malfoys out of her mind. But now she was home from work and her mum looked like she was going to have a panic attack. There was a reason the Grangers never threw dinner parties. Hermione dropped her purse in the living room (and the black shopping bag that had a bottle of lemonade) and joined her mum in the kitchen, helping her cut vegetables.

"Just take a deep breath, mum," Hermione tried to smile reassuringly, but she was nervous also. She didn't want to have to deal with Lucius looking like he had just been sent to the dirtiest slums in the world. There was no way their home would compare to the Manor, but this was their home and she was proud of it.

There was sweat on her mum's brow as she slaved away over the hot stove. "We're not trying to impress anyone, really. The important thing it to show them what it's like to be muggles and a muggle born witch. We're equal to them," Hermione went on, setting the potatoes in a bowl of water.

She saw her mum stop stirring the sauce and smile at her. "Thank you, dear."

"You go get ready," Hermione smiled, "I'll take over for a bit,"

Her mum protested, but after a few urgings left the kitchen. There were two cameras in their tiny kitchen, making it hard to move around, but she was able to add the garlic into the sauce and stir, while also making sure the lamb wasn't drying out. She had learned to cook on Christmas trips home and summer vacation. It was always important to her mum that she learn so she could take care of herself one day.

The cameramen started asking her questions about tonight. "I'm a little worried, but I think it'll go fine. I guess Narcissa will have a lot to talk to my mum about. And as long as there is good food, it won't be too bad," She smiled at her own lame joke and tasted the sauce.

"Do you think the Malfoys will like your house?"

"It obviously won't compare to theirs. But this is our house, it's where I broke my arm when I fell down the stairs and this drawer," She gestured to the cream coloured one next to the stove, "always needs some strength to get open. I don't know if the Malfoys have things like that in their home, but it's ours and it's where we made our story,"

Crookshanks walked into the kitchen, then, his tail up. He rubbed his head against her leg, purring. She smiled down at him, using her foot to rub his side. Crookshanks had spent all of yesterday evening off in the corner unhappy that Ron had been around. Tonight he was much happier, even looking like he wanted to chase some birds this morning as he looked out the window.

"And if they don't," She said, smiling, "they can suck it,"

She left to get ready, slipping out of her work trousers into a pair of jeans. She wasn't dressing up for dinner in her own house. She changed into a t-shirt, it had a can of coke on it- bright red. She wondered if she should have changed... it might just provoke Lucius and Draco into being gits. She looked through her drawers, changing into a blue 'Doctor Who' shirt. She doubted they'd know the show, since it was muggle, and most wizards didn't have a tv.

Her mum frowned when she saw what she was wearing. "Hermione, really?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and got plates from the cabinet to help her mum set the table. "What?" She saw her mum was wearing a blouse and had pulled out a pair of pearls. "You look nice. But why are you wearing shoes?"

Her mum blew some hair form her face. "Because, Hermione, we're having a dinner party,"

"I'm not putting shoes on." she paused, then added, "or socks. We're home, mum. We're not putting on some big show for the Malfoys. We don't live in a bloody mansion."

"Hermione, just-" she sighed, apparently deciding it was a lost cause, "Just set the table."

Her dad finally got home from work. He looked exhausted, judging by the bags under his eyes, and only had time to kiss her forehead before he was hustled off to the bathroom to shower by his anxious wife. Hermione dropped down onto the couch, turning the tv on- her mum wouldn't have been this worried if the Weasleys were coming over.

She watched the news for a bit, but then changed it to a game show while she waited. She could smell dinner as the finishing touches were added. It all smelled amazing.

"Hermione! Get the drinks, please!" Her mom called and she obediently went to get the bottle she had left by the table near the door. She hadn't counted on the Malfoys enjoying lemonade so much, but they did. She left it on the table and then dropped back onto the couch.

Her phone buzzed and she pulled it out, seeing a text from Harry: _With Ron, the others, and Jenna go-carting. Don't you wish you were here?_

She grinned. She did wish she was with them. She'd only been go-carting once, and it hadn't gone well, but that didn't mean she wouldn't have given it another chance. Especially if it meant getting out of this. But she was happy her friends were having a good time.

Her phone buzzed again and she read: _Ron just crashed. The camera got everything._

The doorbell rang just as her dad was walking out of the bathroom. Her mom shrieked and Hermione saw she was in the middle of bringing the lamb to the table. "I've got it," She assured her mom, walking over to the door while she wrote back to Harry.

_Perfect, can't wait to see it. Gotta run- doorbell just rang._

She looked up after she hit send and saw she was staring straight at the Malfoys. Her eyes found Draco first and saw he was wearing his usual black ensemble. Narcissa hugged her, "Hello!"

She saw Marty was with them also, but she didn't ask why. The cameras came in first, getting set up. She shut the door behind them and followed them in. They looked out of place- Narcissa was wearing pearls also with her dress. Draco was so formal in all black and Lucius' cloak must have been hot outside. Her house was simple compared to how dressed up they were. She watched them take little looks around, especially at the pictures on the walls that weren't moving, and wondered what they were thinking.

"Hey," She smiled, welcoming them in. She felt the words slipping out of her mouth before she could think about it, "Do you always dress like you're going to a funeral?"

Draco looked at her and she wanted to take the words back. He didn't seem like he found her words amusing, and she braced herself for whatever hurtful thing he was going to say. He had, after all, had no shortage of things to say in school. He didn't get to say anything since both her parents walked into the room and she was forced to introduce them.

They all took a seat at the table, Hermione next to Narcissa and her mum. Draco was across from his mum, next to his dad, who was next to her dad. Lucius was across from her, so whatever scowl he decided to make, she'd notice every one.

"Hermione, I finally got around to reading one of Shakespeare's plays," Narcissa said, happily, "I read the one called 'Romeo and Juliet.' I must admit, some of the language was a little hard, that's why it has taken me this long to tell you about it, but it was lovely. It wasn't really a love story, was it?"

Hermione shook her head, "That's great. No, I don't think it is. A lot of people like to say its the best love story there is, but it really isn't. And you have to wonder if Shakespeare is actually mocking young love or innocence, in general. After all, their 'love' is based on attraction. And just before they met, Romeo was pining away over some other girl."

"Yes, and you have to wonder if they would have felt the same way about each other had they not been torn between two feuding families. And the idea of fate is interesting- that your life is predestined and there's nothing you can do to change it. Was it really fate that killed them, or was it just their brashness that didn't allow them to look for any other options?" Narcissa asked.

"Exactly, they were too young to think of any other way. 'The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one.'" At Narcissa's stunned face, Hermione added, "It's from another muggle book: 'Catcher in the Rye.'"

"That's a very nice quote," Narcissa said, "Maybe I shall read that book soon."

"So Hermione got you reading Shakespeare," her mum grinned, "Typical. How did you enjoy the museum?"

"It was fantastic," Narcissa gushed, "I especially loved that Piccaso guy. He was very strange."

Her dad laughed, "Yes, I never quite understood his work,"

Draco looked at her and said softly across the table, "To answer your question Granger, I always dress _sharp._"

She snorted, glancing over at him. "That's a funeral outfit."

"And what exactly are _you _wearing?" He scoffed, eyeing her t-shirt.

"Do not get snippy with me. The Doctor is the best character of all time and 'Doctor Who' is the best show in the whole entire galaxy. He's an alien, traveling through time saving the world. But he's also hurting because he's the last of his kind even though he destroyed them all." She grinned at him, in a 'beat that' kind of way.

Draco didn't look impressed. "That's all? He's got a time turner? Anyone can have a time turner."

She remembered in third year when _she _had a time turner. Not everyone_ could _have one. McGonagall had had to pull some serious strings to get her one. And the Ministry had made her give it back at the end of the year when she decided for the following year to take an easier course load. She hadn't even been allowed to tell Harry and Ron about it. Maybe for pure-bloods like Draco Malfoy, time turners were the usual birthday present, but for normal people, it was a big deal.

Hermione's mouth dropped. "No. He has a TARDIS: Time And Relative Dimensions In Space. It's a blue police box."

Draco rolled his eyes, clearly not impressed. "He has a... box. What he needs is a time turner."

"You're impossible," She huffed. "You're just jealous because I dress better."

"Granger, we all know who the attractive one is here. And its not you," There it was. Hermione sucked in a breath, instantly back at school. She had been used to being called ugly and she had kind of forgotten that Draco Malfoy, the boy in front of her, had usually been the one behind it. But in the last week or so, they had gotten along a bit, having simple, easy conversations that usually never got too personal.

She looked away, not noticing the way his face fell. She tuned back into the conversation about art that was going on around the table with the adults sans Lucius. "Hermione loves Jackson Pollock. Do you know him, Narcissa?"

"I can't say I do..." The older woman admitted, not looking happy at the fact.

Hermione had to smile at how eager Narcissa was to learn everything about literature and art. "No, no. You do," she said, happy to step in and cheer her up, "He's the guy that splatters paint. You said it looked like something a five year old painted."

"Oh!" Narcissa beamed, thrilled to understand. "Yes, I didn't understand that," It was like she had been starved of all this knowledge her whole life and was willing to take a crash course now.

"I don't either," Her dad said, "These two love him." He gestured at his daughter and wife, "Anything these days can be art. Art is a landscape or a person, not paint splatters. Anyone can do that. I should up at that museum by now if that's art."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You just don't get it," She stuck her tongue out at her dad who chuckled.

Her mum said, "Narcissa, I'm quite surprised you've been so eager to learn all this muggle stuff. I would have thought you wouldn't be interested."

Hermione sucked in her breath. She'd been wondering the same thing- she just hadn't brought it up. Narcissa had been the most interested from the start, as well. At that first meeting she hadn't seemed so standoffish. She had been worried about her husband, but that seemed to have vanished after the museum trip.

"I was never as extreme in my views as the others. I almost lost my family in this war and if the way to prevent that from happening again is to be open to change, then so be it. And all of this is rather interesting." Narcissa smiled before turning to Hermione's dad, "So that box over there," She pointed to the telly, "Colours and sounds come out of it?"

"Would you like me to turn it on?" her dad asked with a smile. Hermione had since turned the show off since their company arrived, but now her dad was walking over to their flat screen, excited to show it off. "This button right here turns it on and then-"

Narcissa jumped as the picture appeared. It was an infomercial for a special rag that would hold more water. Narcissa seemed amazed enough with the tv, but the special rag was too much. "Does it really work? Can we order one? What is a telephone?"

Hermione pulled out her phone as it buzzed. _How is it going?_

_The horror, Draco thinks Doctor Who is stupid. My dad is currently showing off our tv._ She wrote back to Harry. She didn't realise she had drawn Narcissa's attention and she handed over her phone.

"Narcissa," Lucius spoke, his voice stiff, "would you stop making such a spectacle of yourself and stop touching all their dirty-"

"It's fine." Hermione's mum cut in, "And none of our stuff is _dirty_," She narrowed her eyes.

Lucius didn't seem bashful at all at being caught. He slumped in his chair and shovelled another helping of vegetables onto his plate with magic. Was it really too hard to just use the serving spoon? How would he live if something happened one day and he couldn't use magic?

Narcissa gave her back her phone, but took the remote for her dad and attempted to change channels. A football game flashed on the screen before rapidly changing to a crime show and then to the news. "Fascinating. Did Shakespeare have one of these?"

"No," her mum laughed, "You know, there's a film of 'Romeo and Juliet.' We can watch it if you like. 'Mione, don't you own it?"

"Yup," She said, absentmindedly, texting Harry back.

"Hermione Jean Granger, put your phone away. That is bad manners," her mum scolded.

"Sorry," She muttered, sliding the phone onto the table.

"Will you refill the pitcher?" Her mum asked, and Hermione stood up without a word, taking the empty pitcher with her. When she got back to the room she was horrified to see Crookshanks rubbing up against Draco's leg. He leaned down to rub his head and the traitor cat let out a loud purr. Hermione nearly dropped the pitcher, but she made it to the table, shooting daggers at her cat for betraying her.

He didn't like Ron, her loving, sweet boyfriend, but evil, jerk Draco Malfoy was fair game?

She watched Narcissa ogle at the news. "And that's happening now? Live, you say? And we can see it?"

"It's like watching the Quidditch World Cup," Hermione explained, hoping to forget about Draco touching her cat. "Live at home instead of at the grounds. That's how most people watch football games. World Cup, UEFA, Champions League, Copa del Rey... you know... you do watch football, right?"

"It's a mudblood game," Lucius huffed, "Why would we watch it?"

Hermione saw both her parents glare, but they didn't understand the gravity of what he'd said. Before anyone could say anything, much less Hermione hex him into the next century, Marty stepped in. It was like he had become Lucius' personal guard dog.

"This whole operation is about ending prejudice and building relationships. Lucius, the whole reason you escaped Azkaban was agreeing to do this. So do this right or the Minister won't spare a thought tossing you in there." Marty scolded.

..._whole reason you escaped Azkaban was agreeing to do this... _It made sense. Hermione glared at Lucius, "Get out of my house."

"Herm-" her mum started, but Hermione didn't bristle at the harshness in her mum's voice. She didn't get it, but Hermione knew what Lucius said and what he meant. She'd spent her whole wizarding life being called that horrid name and living down because of it. But she wasn't going to let him be better than her. She was kicking him out of her house. He didn't deserve her parents' hospitality or their food and all her mum's anxiety. He wasn't worth of any of it.

"Get. Out." She said again, standing up this time. She felt the cameras in her face- this was good drama for them, after all.

Narcissa started to say something, but Draco stood up, tossing his napkin onto the table. "She's right. Lets go, father,"

"Thank you for dinner, it was lovely," Narcissa said, "I'm sorry for him,"

"You really don't have to go-" her dad started, turning the tv off.

"Yes, they do." Hermione didn't ease up on her glare as she stared at Lucius. He looked ready to murder her, except with magic since everything he did was with magic.

"After you," Draco smirked, holding the door opened for his father. He didn't spare a glance behind him as he followed the older man out the door and into a breezy summer night.

* * *

**A/N Hi! How is everyone? Thanks so much to everyone that keeps reading and reviewing :) I hope you liked this chapter, it was fun to write. I like playing around with Narcissa's character and kinda pushing everyone's boundaries. Also, I love the idea of Hermione and Harry having cell phones haha. **

**Special thank you's to: Sparkxfly93, ILoveSiriusBlack4, FuryPossessed, Loveable Leo, and CrescentMoon12. You each make my day a bit brighter, and as some of you know I try to respond when I can. Thank you, thank you, thank you :)**


	10. Chapter Ten

_CHAPTER TEN_

'Men are more interesting in books than they are in real life.'  
~Mary Ann Shaffer, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society~

Ron and Harry showed up at her job the next day. "I know you usually spend your break with my less than charming brother," Ron announced, grabbing her purse, "but today you're spending lunch with your two best friends in the whole universe, one of them being your loving boyfriend."

"Ron," She said, walking behind them, "give me my bag back." She was trying to act like she wasn't amused, but it wasn't working. "Ronald!"

The last thing she wanted to do was make a scene at her job, so she stayed quiet as Ron laughed and weaved in and out of the aisles with her purse. He was taking the long way out on purpose, she knew, and she could practically see Harry's cheeky smile from the back of his head. She rolled her eyes, but felt giddy. They were breaking her out! For an hour, but better late than never. It felt like they hadn't spent much time together the three of them for awhile. Harry and Ron were busy with auror training and she had her job. And then both she and Ron had to devote time to filming this show.

Once they were outside, the sun beat down on them. She jumped up on her boyfriend's back as punishment for stealing her bag. Ron caught her easily, his hands under her thighs. She wrapped her arms across his chest and planted a kiss near his ear. Judging by his smile, it didn't seem like it was effective punishment, but she didn't mind so much. It was impossible to describe how light she was feeling, even if she doubted Ron would agree. There was just something about being with the man you love and your best friend.

Whoa. Did she just say... love? She loved Ron? How did she even know what love was? She loved being around him, but was it love?

"You okay?" Ron asked, like he sensed her change.

Was _that_ love? Being able to tell when the other person starts feeling something else? She needed to calm down, if she subconsciously considered the man she loved, than it must have been true. You don't just think that unless you mean it. Either way, now was not the time to dwell on it, especially since it was supposed to be friendship time after weeks of being apart. She couldn't ruin it now with her own mixed up feelings. Or maybe it wasn't so mixed up. Maybe she really did love Ron and her mind was just screwing it up.

"Mione, you look sick," Harry observed from her side.

Ron set her down gently, like he was worried she'd fall apart. He turned to look at her and touched her cheek. "You do seem pale. Is it the heat, Mione?"

"Yeah... yeah, the heat," She lied, it would be easier than explaining what was really going on. "Lets um... where were you taking me?"

Ron looked at Harry. "You didn't have anywhere in mind, did you? And why aren't you at training?" She questioned.

"We were let out early," Ron shrugged, "And we did have a plan!" At the look she sent him, Ron sighed and muttered, "Fine. We don't know where we're going,"

"We just need to get you out of the heat," Harry said, "Are you feeling okay? Do you need water?"

"Right, the heat." Hermione blushed, "Um... ice cream?"

It proved to be the right suggestion, since there was nothing really to do at Diagon Alley besides shop. They got a table inside, since the boys were still worried she'd get heat stroke. "How was dinner with the Malfoys?" Ron asked, through a mouthful of ice cream.

She cringed, "Can you please swallow your ice cream first?" Ron rolled his eyes and she went on, "It was fine until Lucius called us mudbloods. I kicked them out." There was no point in mentioning Draco calling her ugly for the millionth time. Also, they had fallen into a pattern of not talking about Draco, so there was no reason for her to break it now.

Ron's whole face turned red. "He did what?"

Harry was beaming at her, "Go, Mione! You really kicked them out?"

"Hell yeah," She grinned, "You should have seen Lucius. He looked ready to _Avada_ someone. But I kicked them out. We haven't spoken since. Ronald," She added, seeing her boyfriend looked furious, "It's fine, I took care of it. You don't need to be mad- it's not like this is the first time this has happened."

"Why didn't you call me?" He asked.

"Huh?" She said, stupidly. "I mean," she corrected herself, "Excuse me?"

"Why didn't you call? After it happened?" Ron questioned.

Hermione looked at him, at a loss for words. She didn't know why she hadn't called him. It hadn't seemed like a big deal. She'd handled it and calling Ron had never once popped into her mind. Did that make her a bad girlfriend? Was she supposed to want to call him after something happened? But she didn't need him. She'd been fine. It wasn't anything important like her mom got hit by a car.

"I don't know." She told him, "And you were out with Harry and Jenna go-carting. I didn't want to ruin your fun." This was untrue, but she didn't want to hurt his feelings by saying he never crossed her mind all night. "And you don't even have a phone. Nor can you use one properly"

"Mione, you can call me whenever." He said, reaching across the table to take her hand, like she hadn't even brought up a very important fact. He _didn't _have a phone. She'd have had to call Harry and asked to speak to Ron, who would then spend nearly a whole minute trying to hold it properly.

She wanted to pull away but thought that would send the wrong message. Especially since she hadn't called him and he clearly wanted her to have. His hand felt warm and she tried to smile. She glanced at Harry, finding him staring at her. It was like he was trying to read her mind. It was the look he got when he thought she wasn't being truthful about her feelings. He'd given it to her the night at the burger joint before she blew up.

"I wish you would have," His thumb drew circles into her hand.

"Ron," She protested, "I was fine, really. Nothing happened."

"Yeah, mate," Harry cut in, "She's fine. She handled it."

Hermione smiled gratefully at him and then looked back at Ron- who was looking at her as if she was a broken puppy. "I _really _am fine," She said, starting to get irritated. She wasn't a little girl that needed saving or whatever it was Ron was trying to do.

"But when you do, I'll be there for you." Ron grinned, "I am an auror, after all."

_Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where was this coming from? _Hermione thought. She wanted to say something snarky back like, "Yeah, in training!" or, "I can take of myself." What was up with Ron? Did he suddenly think the world revolved around him? There were hundreds of aurors and most of them got killed. And Ron hadn't even been that _good_ at spells in school.

What was she doing? Thinking all these mean things about her boyfriend? That wasn't right. How could she claim to love him when here he was offering to be her knight in shining armour and it was just annoying her to no end? And why did she always end up feeling like this? This couldn't be what love was? _Then why did her bloody subconscious bring it up to begin with?_

She had no idea why she said it. She remembered the day Narcissa told her about it and how she'd blurted out the thing about university. She still hadn't told anyone about it. She had spent a huge portion of dinner praying Narcissa wouldn't bring it up. It had been a relief when that part of her life had managed to stay secret.

Either way, the familiar sense of competition welled inside of her. And she had no idea _why_. There was no reason for her to have said it. Especially because she wasn't interested and there was no way he ever would be. The words came tumbling out of her mouth and she wanted to take them back as they were spinning out because she knew she was just saying them to hurt him. She had wanted to bring him down a peg, but this was just cruel.

"Draco is going to work with dragons." She felt like slapping herself. It was so hurtful and underhanded and totally uncalled for. And made no sense since why would Draco ever be her knight in shining armour? Never, that's when. Or her boyfriend, since knight in shining armour wasn't really what she was looking for. Draco couldn't even take care of himself- she thought of Puffy, the way he used magic to get everything (especially books), and the way he had double crossed them after Harry saved him in the burning Room of Requirement.

Harry's mouth fell. He glared. Harry, who had always been on her side. Had always looked at her when he knew she was twisting the truth. He could read her so well. She wished he could see it now. But he didn't get it this time. Harry loved Ron- for real, not like whatever she was doing. Everything was telling Harry to protect his best friend from her crazy, lunatic-like behaviour.

Ron flinched- it was like she _had_ slapped him. "What," he began slowly, his voice low and deep, "the bloody hell does _Malfoy_ have to do with this?"

It was worse than screaming at her. She felt vile and shrivelled up. Why couldn't she just let Ron have his moment? He'd never really been confident about anything before. Why had she tried to take that away? Was it so hard for her to just let Ron have the spotlight sometimes? He'd lived in brothers' shadows his whole life and then he became best friends with the most famous wizard ever. Ron had never really had attention on him- good attention, anyway. And she was an only child. All her accomplishments had been made a bigger deal than they actually were. She didn't have a right to tell Ron that auror training shouldn't make him feel stronger or just generally better.

She didn't know what to say to him. His glare matched Harry's, maybe even bested him. She wished a fairy would just land on her shoulder and tell her how to fix it. What to say, what would make it right. There had to be a way, right? She couldn't have just messed it up in a sentence. Or maybe she had done more than that. Maybe she hadn't called and she got mad about Paris. And he didn't know her enough to realise she'd have hated Paris for a dinner trip and that she didn't want saving. The last time he'd tried to save her when a Malfoy called her a mudblood was second year and that hadn't really worked out for him too well.

Okay- that wasn't the _last_ time he tried to save her, probably. But it was jumping out at her, demanding to be noticed. To be remembered. But there was no way she could remind him of that moment. Besides the fact it was highly disturbing and gross- puking slugs, ugh- it also would do nothing to help the situation and be as cruel as the last thing she said.

Ron was waiting for an answer. She felt the cameras following them. This was probably gold for them. Besides the fact they were fighting, she had also brought up another man. This was like heaven for them.

"It doesn't mean anything," She admitted, "It was stupid, I don't know why I brought it up." It was a lame answer- she heard the words in her head, making her want to strangle herself. She expected Ron to start yelling bloody murder, but he stood, his chair flying back without the use of any magic. He simply strode out, the door rattling shut behind him.

They had a problem of getting into fights at places of dining.

She didn't know what hurt more. The look he sent her or the way the door slamming reverberated in her heart. She had to force herself to look at Harry. She expected him to still be mad, but he looked concerned.

"Mione, tell me what's going on? Why would- just." He paused, then looked annoyed as he added, "What?"

"Nothing! It didn't mean anything. Draco and I aren't a thing or anything. We're not even friends, not really. I don't know why I said that, it was so stupid and I wish I still had my time turner. I was just annoyed and he was being so conceited." She needed Harry to understand, because if he understood than she wasn't crazy and there was a chance Ron would understand too. "And I was getting so frustrated with the way he was acting about what happened at dinner. I don't want a knight in shining armour or whatever he wants to be. I just want... I don't know what I want, but its not whatever Ron was trying to be just now."

Harry looked at her like she was a foreign species. "Girls," He muttered.

"I am a woman," Hermione shot back, hoping he'd take it light heartedly.

"Even worse," He joked.

She threw her plastic spoon at him. "Really, Harry, I'm not cheating on Ron or anything. I don't want you to think that. And please tell Ron that when you see him."

He nodded, "Okay, but I don't think he thinks that. I mean, Malfoy is a prat and we've never liked him, right?"

She wasn't sure what that mean. _We _never liked him, like _she_ wasn't allowed to. Not that she did, but some of their recent conversations had been nice enough. She smiled in a straight line and took another spoonful of ice cream.

* * *

Marty had good news. Wilson Betemit had taken to having the boy follow Lucius Malfoy around to make sure he played nice and gave them material for the show. After all, Lucius was the most well-known pure-blood. They needed him to accept the Granger girl or else they had no hope of changing the way people thought and acted.

And finally after weeks of pointless film, Marty had returned to say that the Granger girl was more complex than anyone imagined. That wasn't exactly good news to anyone, especially any man, but Marty made Wilson sit at his desk. He pulled out a muggle laptop he'd used to compile all the footage and played him a scene in an ice cream shop.

Wilson watched as she dug the Malfoy block into her boyfriend's side. What did that mean? Was there a... thing there? "Show me the two of them together," Wilson said, the gears turning in his head. What _did _this mean? And were they supposed to sit on it? Or could this be used to lure Lucius out of whatever hole he'd made for himself?

It was obvious as they played back the footage from days before. How had anyone missed it? It was painted all over his face. The way Draco stared at her when she wasn't looking. How tense he'd get when she'd walk by. The way his eyes followed her out of a room. It was clear as day to anyone that cared to look. Only a blind person would have missed it. And Granger. And probably Draco Malfoy himself.

But Wilson Betemit and Marty weren't any of those people. They had noticed. Now it was a matter of what they were going to do with it.

It was interesting to see how Marty had changed since the inception of this show. Wilson studied him, leaning back in his chair. He didn't mumble as much and he wore better clothes- although if that was the show or a girl was anyone's guess. Maybe it was just because he had to follow Lucius Malfoy around all day. That wasn't for the faint of heart. And Marty had risen to the challenge. Wilson hadn't exactly been the kindest boss either- with all his threats and forcing Marty into situations he probably hadn't wanted to be bothered with.

"Is everything okay?" Marty asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.

He grinned, "Everything is superb."

"So, umm," Marty teetered, "what are we going to do?"

"About Malfoy and the Granger girl? It would make a good story, wouldn't it? Forbidden love, overcoming personal prejudice as well as society's expectations. And he certainly already feels that way and who knows how she feels, but she doesn't need to love him for us to spin it however we want." Wilson said, playing it over in his head. It _was _a good story. It might even make a good play. Someone should write something like it. Wilson grinned, _star-crossed_. That was a good word. Maybe he should write it.

"Well, sir," Marty started, "there is something else you should know." He directed his attention back to the laptop and hit play. There was Granger again in an aisle talking to another red headed Weasley. They hugged goodbye. The footage cut to them having a passionate debate over ice cream. Good grief, the woman moved fast. She was like a slithering temptress.

"A three way! We'll have a love triangle!" Wilson cried, "It's like Christmas came early,"

Marty seemed nervous, some of his old self shining through. Wilson hadn't meant to turn him into a snake, but that was what happened when you got involved in other people's lives. "Are you sure this is the right thing to-"

"Of course it is," Wilson snapped, "Get Ransom in here,"

Jake Ransom was one of the editors working on piecing all the footage together for the final show. They needed to alert him to the new drama that was unfolding right before their eyes. And they weren't doing anything wrong, per se. The feelings were there, everyone was just too dumb to see it or act on it. Wilson Betemit would remedy that for them.

"But-"

"Now!"

* * *

**A/N Sorry! How did 10 days just go by? I guess I've been more busy than I thought. I hope you're all enjoying and thanks so much. Cheers! Special thanks to: CrescentMoon12, ILoveSiriusBlack4, FuryPossessed, Loveable Leo, and LadyBookworm80. **


	11. Chapter Eleven

_CHAPTER ELEVEN_

'People aren't either wicked or noble. They're like chef's salads, with good things and bad things chopped and mixed together in a vinaigrette of confusion and conflict.'  
~Lemony Snicket, The Grim Grotto~

Hermione found herself in the Manor a few days later. She was where she always was, sitting in the study, in the chair that had moulded to her butt, with Draco next to her reading. Lucius was no where to be seen and Narcissa was out buying new robes. "Are you ever going to take me out?" She found herself, asking, "Because we're supposed to be doing stuff, not just sitting here reading."

"What," Draco glanced over at her, "don't you like reading?"

"Sure, reading is plenty great. But I didn't sign up for this so I could sit here and read with you." Hermione said, shutting her book, frustrated.

"What do you want to do with me?" He wiggled his eyebrows.

She had set herself up for that one, she knew. But she didn't think he was going take it. They went from one extreme to the next. He called her ugly _then_ was making sexual jokes. It baffled her, but she wasn't in the mood to discuss it.

"Fine, Granger. There's a Ministry dinner tomorrow night at the Greengrass'. Get yourself a dress and we'll pick you up at eight." Draco said, easily. It was like he was inviting her to afternoon tea.

She looked at him, but his head was buried in the book again. There it was... that confidence. It came so naturally to him. She didn't know anyone that could just say what he said with such ease and pull it off. Ron certainly had just come off as egotistical and not quite sure what to do with himself. He kept holding her hand, as if that would make everything better. She pushed Ron away, she wasn't going to think about them and compare them. They were different, it was simple as that. No one was the same and neither were any two relationships.

Draco sighed. He looked at her, "What?"

"What?" She asked back, confused.

"I invited you to dinner. Why are you still sitting there like I didn't ask you to dance at the Yull Ball?" He questioned, still looking at her. That might have been the longest time he looked at her without looking at his book. Her eyes widened as she realised he could read her like his book. How had he known she still wasn't happy? _Why _ had he known that and how could she make him un-know it? She wasn't sure if Ron would even have picked up on it.

"First of all," she said, "I did not want to dance with you at the Yull Ball, so that is a stupid analogy." He looked like he was going to smile, and she went on, "Second of all, I'm fine."

He didn't look convinced, but he finally stopped staring and went back to his book. He let a few moments of silence pass before he added, "But you do want to dance with me," He seemed rather proud at that fact.

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked, looking over at him. What was he on about?

"You said you didn't want to dance with me AT the Yull Ball, you didn't say anything about now-"

She cut him off, wishing he'd drop it. "Because _you_ brought up the Yull Ball! I was just-"

Draco seemed amused. He looked away from her, muttering, "Whatever you say, Granger."

"I do say!" She shrieked, rather madly. She was worried he'd shoot her a nervous look, but he didn't and it flooded her with relief. And something else. She didn't know what it was, but it made her feel good. Better, even. It was like he just understood he should let her have her madness. But how did he understand that? And why did Ron never seem to? She chastised herself for comparing them again so easily. This would take some time.

She found herself studying him, curious about his newfound talent for reading her. His hair fell down into his eyes and his cheekbones were so clear and defined. She was jealous. She _always_ wanted cheekbones like that. And his eyelashes! They were so full and they curled up naturally. His lips were pink and thin, she found herself wanting to reach over and run her fingers over them.

She looked away. This was wrong.

"Can you take me to the room?" She found herself asking. Anything to be distracted by how good he smelled and how soft his hair looked.

"Granger," Draco looked up at her, "I thought you were a good-"

"Draco, seriously." She deadpanned, and she knew all the jokes were gone. He understood, she knew. And he was going to take her. He didn't look thrilled about it, but he would. "For my mental health, please."

"It might do more damage to your mental health," Draco muttered, sardonically. But he stood up, leaving his book behind and she followed him out.

Was this really the best idea? She had second thoughts as she followed him through the maze that was the Manor, but a part of her told her it was right. She needed this. She had grown so accustomed to the study. She liked the warmth she felt there, even though there was always a draft in such a big house. She felt safe among all the books. The chair had become hers. It was like she adopted it from a chair shelter.

There was a picture of Draco's graduation on the wall. He didn't look happy- but she'd never seen a picture of him where he did look happy. She figured he looked the happiest he could be. Draco realised she wasn't following him and looked back.

"I liked your speech." He said, catching her off-guard. She realised he was talking about graduation. "Especially when you said that your time at Hogwarts didn't dwarf any of ours."

Her mouth dropped. Those were nearly the exact words she'd used. And he _remembered?_ She doubted her mom even remembered, and here was Draco Malfoy complimenting her and remembering exact words! Nothing made much sense anymore.

"Um... thanks," She walked away from the picture, expecting him to keep walking.

"What? No compliment? How about my stunning cheekbones?" He joked, his eyes twinkling in a way she'd never seen before. It was like he had read her mind.

"You're a real Adonis." She rolled her eyes, "Now lets go. To the torture room!" She tried to make light of the situation, but the joke paled in her mind. She was such an idiot. Why had she said that? She risked a glance at Draco and saw that he looked like he was about to be sick.

"Brilliant," He muttered, taking the lead again. She followed along, every step she took made her stomach coil and she wanted to turn back. What was any of this going to accomplish? Worse, the whole thing was being _filmed._ This was like some twisted form of therapy. That everyone would be watching.

Draco stopped suddenly- so suddenly she nearly ran right into him. She looked up at him, startled to see how close they were. Only a slight tilt of a head and they'd be snogging. His breath was on her face. It unnerved her and her stomach felt tighter. She wanted to run away, but something kept her glued to the spot. "Granger," He tried, his face twisting up like he was in real pain, "are you- are you sure?"

She realised they were standing in front of a closed door. She pushed passed him, stepping into the room. She didn't know what she was expecting. A blood spattered room? That wouldn't have made sense- there had been no blood involved. Just magic. She took a few tentative steps in, acutely aware of Draco and the camera crew behind her. It was just an ordinary room. There was a fireplace and a rug with a picture of a beach- looked like Italy.

She gulped. This room could have been nice. Once upon a time, it probably was. Maybe Narcissa stayed up knitting in this room. Okay, she probably never knitted. But if she did, it might have been in this room. Draco might have gotten his letter to Hogwarts in this room. But for her this room was just pain. She could practically see herself writing on the floor, tears streaming down her face, screaming. It had felt like it would never end. She couldn't think about anything else. There was just blinding, bone crushing pain.

She felt her body kneeling down, but she didn't realise what was going on as she laid down right in the centre. This was where it had been. It didn't feel like it. She couldn't imagine being burned alive right here, in this very spot. It was such a nice room. The sun wafted through, it sparkled on a snow globe across the room. What were the Malfoys doing with something as mundane as a _snow globe?_

She felt like she was watching herself from some sort of other dimension. She laid perfectly still, worried in any moment the pain would return. She tried to bring herself back to that moment. She'd been composed moments before it had happened. She'd been determined to be strong- they'd taken her away from her friends and locked them in a dungeon. She was going to be brave and keep their secrets. She'd never give anything up to the Malfoys. They could do anything to her, but she would never break. She'd never give them that kind of satisfaction. Lucius and Draco had both tried for years to take her spirit, and she'd never given up.

She hadn't expected Bellatrix to be in charge of the questioning. Bellatrix had been the most rabid and hysterical out of all of them. She was furious, but there was something else there as she got in Hermione's face before she unleashed the power of the spell. She was enjoying it. It gave her pleasure. It was sick, but Hermione saw it all over her face and that's when she realised it was about to be much worst than she every imagined it would be.

Bellatrix didn't even waste anytime questioning her. She pointed her wand and shrieked and instantaneously her whole body was contorting, the pain blinding and excruciating. She forgot everything. It was a pure miracle she hadn't given any valuable secret up when the pain ebbed away for a few glorious moments.

She was brought back to reality by Draco lying next to her. They were close, but not touching. His body was rigid as a board. She didn't look at him, staring up at the ceiling. And she knew he wasn't looking at her either. She didn't know how, but it made her feel a little better.

* * *

"You're going to a Ministry dinner? With Draco Malfoy?" Her mother questioned, when she got home later that evening. There was no one else she could talk to since Harry wouldn't get it and he was Ron's best friend, despite also being hers. First things first, Ron was her boyfriend. Ginny was away at school and she probably wouldn't react too well to the news either. Hermione needed to find a friend that was her own- someone that would be loyal to her all the time and take her side. Her mum was all she had at the moment.

She nodded, bitting her nails.

"Hermione Jean Granger," Her mum scolded, "Don't you dare bite your nails. Especially before... whatever tomorrow is."

She put her hand down, but her leg was bouncing nervously. This was mental. She was bloody mad. What was she going to do? Why had she pushed him into asking to do something? And why couldn't the bleeding cameras leave her alone so she could have a moment with her mum?

"But haven't you always hated him?" Her mum finally asked the golden question.

Hermione dropped her head onto the kitchen table. "Yes," She groaned, "He's such a git. And he might have been evil at some point. He might still be. I don't know."

"I doubt he's _evil,"_ Her mum said, with a roll of her eyes at her child's dramatics. "He seemed... torn. That was bullocks, let me try again. He seemed... confused. He definitely doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve."

"No, he doesn't," She agreed, "He's a mystery, with his stupid face in a book. He never used to read at school, I swear!" At her mum's dubious look, she added, "I would have noticed."

That got a chuckle from her mum and a knowing nod. "Yes, you probably would have. The war probably changed him. War changes everyone and everything. Keep an open mind, love. But don't cross any lines," She warned, "You _do_ have a boyfriend. The most important thing is to always like who you are, remember that."

Hermione nodded. "I was never planning on doing anything,"

"Sometimes these things can't be planned." Her mum added.

"No, no. Sometimes they can. And he definitely doesn't like me anymore than as an acquaintance, if even that. And I don't like him like that- it's just weird, that's all. I don't know." She shook her head, it was all starting to get so jumbled in her head.

"I saw him at dinner," Her mum said, standing up to wash her now empty mug.

"So did I," Hermione muttered, "He reminded me I wasn't pretty, so next time you want to play matchmaker..." She trailed off, seeing the appalled look on her mother's face. "What? I was just-"

"He said what?" Her mum questioned, turning her full attention back to her daughter.

Hermione blushed, shrugging. "Oh, that. It's nothing new. He used to do it all the time at school. I shouldn't have let it get to me like that. I mean, I'm not anything special," She mumbled, mortified the entire conversation was being captured on film for the whole world to see. And that her mum looked ready to cry or hurt someone. Maybe both.

"Hermione Jean Granger," This was like the third time her full name had been used in a single conversation. Her mum came over to her and brushed a strand of her brown hair behind her ear, "You are beautiful, how could you ever think that? And you're not just a stunner, you're smart and strong. You're funny and caring. You're a fantastic friend and a hard worker. And all of those things make you beautiful on the inside, as well as your outside. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise."

"Thanks, mum," She mumbled, wiping her eyes in case she had cried at all. She hoped she hadn't. After that she scurried up to her room, content to spend the night with a good book, the tv on mute, and some good music. She snacked on Oreos and realise she must have been incredibly boring to the camera crew, who left fairly quickly once she put on her pyjamas and it became apparent she wasn't moving from her bed all night.

Crookshanks made himself at home in between her legs, but then tip toed off to the corner of the bed where he curled up and went to sleep. He twitched in his sleep and Hermione wondered if he was having a good dream. She couldn't focus on her book for long and instead started researching universities. If she was really going back to school, she'd have to find a school and she couldn't do that by putting it off. She still hadn't told her mum or dad yet.

"And don't think just because you're doing this show you got out of the camping trip!" Her mum called from behind her closed door. "You're still going!"

Hermione groaned and threw a pillow at the door. It rumbled and she heard her mum's laugh as she walked down the hall and soon her own bedroom door shut in the quiet. She summoned the pillow back with a silent spell, happy she had magic. She thought about being a teacher, searching through the many teaching programs in the many English universities. Would she really be happy teaching? And teaching what? Magic at Hogwarts or history in muggle school?

What about what George said about the Ministry? Could she go to school for political science and then run for office? There were so many options, but she didn't know which would work for her. Which would make her happy. How was anyone supposed to know what would make them happy? Wasn't everyone unhappy, that's why everyone was always moaning about how to find happiness or whatever it was they said.

Harry and Ron were going to be aurors. Draco was going to work with dragons. Neville, an old friend from school, was pursing herbology- it was the only subject he'd been good at at school, so it wasn't that hard to predict where he'd end up. Ginny was hooked on astronomy, for some reason, and she was already poised for a career in it- her summer program the first step.

But Hermione liked books and so she'd taken a job at Flourish and Blotts. And now a reality show. Nothing really made sense, so then it probably made sense to do the most insane thing possible since that's what she'd been doing anyway. Maybe George was right. Being in office was the craziest thing she could see herself doing.

That and Draco Malfoy- but she wasn't _doing_ him anytime soon. Or anything with him. Except for the dinner in less than twenty-four hours. But that was for the show.

Anyway, it could work. She could go to university. Major in political science. Or international relations. And then she could run for a position in the Ministry and make a change. A real change. Or she could at least try. Because there was nothing worst than not trying and Hermione had always looked for a way. She'd beat Devil's Snare, she'd brewed polyjuice potion, properly manipulated a time turner, founded S.P.E.W., encouraged Harry to start the DA, survived heartbreak, and helped Harry on his journey to destroy all the Horcruxes and kill Voldemort.

This would be a walk in the park compared to that.

* * *

**A/N Hello world. How goes life? I hope you're enjoying. I love reading your reviews :D I remember this chapter was really fun to write. I had fun playing around with Draco and Hermione's interactions.**

** Very special shout out to all the supermegafoxyawesomehot people that leave me a review: FuryPossessed, ILoveSiriusBlack4, Guest (although I was a little confused), asyouwish76 (Princess Bride, yes?), edwardsoneandonlylove, and Loveable Leo. **


	12. Chapter Twelve

_CHAPTER TWELVE_

'People generally see what they look for, and hear what they listen for.'  
~Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird~

George groaned, looking ready to pull his hair out. "Can you leave us alone for five minutes?" He yelled at the camera crew surrounding him and Hermione. The cameramen took a few steps back, but they were still filming everything. George turned back to her, looking livid, and his grip on her shoulders tightened.

"Hermione, you can't go on a date with Malfoy. First of all, you're dating my brother! Second, we can't trust Malfoy. Did you forget everything he did to us at school- mainly you! He hates muggles and muggle born witches and wizards. He was a Death Eater! And once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater." George exploded on her.

"I'm not going on a date with Malfoy!" She shrieked, wrenching herself free. "For the last few weeks of this SHOW I've done nothing but sit in the Manor and read. He's supposed to be showing me what it's like to be a pure-blood, so that's what is finally happening. There's nothing going on! I'd _NEVER_ do that to Ron, you guys know me. I'm your friend, you can't actually believe I'd cheat on him."

George deflated, she could see the anger slipping away. George could never stay angry for long- it was just who he was. Angelina's head popped up at the front of the aisle, but her body was hidden behind the shelf she was leaning over. "George, are you okay?" She looked concerned, and Hermione noticed some customers had stopped to look at them. She hadn't even known Angelina was in the store.

George looked at her and nodded. "Meet me in the office, please."

She nodded and then disappeared as quickly as she appeared. He looked back at Hermione and nodded, "Fine, you won't cheat on Ron. You _SWEAR_ there is nothing more to this than the pure-blood way of life lesson?"

"Yes," She moaned, "Why would I ever be secretly in love with Malfoy? I didn't forget anything that's ever happened to me, okay? And I haven't given them a free pass. I'm still standing up for myself and dealing with everything. But Draco isn't as combative as we thought. He's kind of changed from the war." At the look George sent her, like he was going to explode about her cheating again, she stopped talking."Okay, fine. I'll stop defending him. But please don't be mad at me. I'm really not going to do anything wrong and I'll be fine at this dinner."

"Take care of yourself, 'Mione," She was relieved to hear her nickname, "You'll be surrounded by pure-blood arses."

"I will," She grinned, touching his arm, "I always am,"

He pulled her into a hug, his warm breath against her ear as he murmured something. Something he didn't want the cameras to hear. It made her sick, as she pulled away and saw it reflected in his eyes. She backed away and then ran for the door, needing to get away. George was still angry at her. They hadn't made up like she thought. Was everyone going to hate her for this? Why couldn't they understand that she was supposed to do this type of stuff for the show? They couldn't hold this against her!

She was never going to cheat! How could they _ever_ think that? She had morals and was a loyal, good friend. They had all been through so much together, she'd never abandon all that because Draco Malfoy was hot and loved to read, which made him more hot. She remembered her mum's advice: You need to like yourself. If she cheated, she would hate herself more than anyone ever could. More than Ron, Harry, or even George would.

She hurried back to the store and threw herself into stocking shelves. She didn't know how to handle this. She grabbed her phone and texted Harry, fearing she had made everything worst by agreeing to go out with Draco and his parents. She didn't care if she wasn't supposed to use her phone at work. This was an emergency. She stepped out, but it didn't give her any privacy since the camera crews were still around her.

The phone line stopped ringing. She pulled the phone away and saw Harry had answered, but wasn't saying anything. "You spoke to George." It wasn't a question, it was a statement and she cringed, waiting for Harry's outburst.

"I want to hear it from you," He deadpanned, and she wondered if he really was going to keep an open mind.

"It's nothing. It's for the _show._ Ron hangs out with Jenna _all the time_ and I don't get all jealous and accuse him of cheating!" She took a deep breath.

"But we hate Malfoy! He- he- he's deceitful!"

"Enough of this 'we' thing! _WE_ are not the same person. _I_ am allowed to make my own decisions about how I feel. And Draco Malfoy is not the same person we went to school with, just like you've changed and I've changed and _everyone on the whole bloody planet_ has changed!"

"Well, if that's how you feel, then fine. Go and be buddies with Malfoy-"

"That's not what I said," She said, pinching her nose in frustration.

Harry ignored her, going on. "_WE,_ your real friends, will be waiting right here when you come back from crazy-ville."

"Crazy-ville," She mused, "How original."

"Do not mock me, 'Mione. Only my _friends_ get to do that."

"You called me 'Mione. Only my friends call me that." She shot back. "Harry... please don't shut me out too. Everyone hates me. I can't lose you too."

"Then don't shut me out," He said, his voice considerably softer than it had been before. "Don't think I haven't noticed, 'Mione. You get all distant and you have a faraway look in your eyes like you're thinking really hard about something. I see it all the time. Mostly when you're with Ron, so excuse me if I'm a little wary of throwing Malfoy into the mix."

"Merlin, you actually thought I'd cheat on Ron? _With Malfoy?"_ She wondered.

Harry murmured something that sounded like, "Ginny thinks he's hot."

"I'll bet," She muttered, before adding, "Okay. I'll tell you about how I feel." There was silence on the other line and she realised he expected her to start now. "Oh, now, uh. Fine. Sometimes I get unsure about me and Ron."

"Ron and me," Harry corrected, "Since when do you let stuff like that slip?" She heard the tease in his voice and it instantly made her feel better. He was listening, he cared, he knew her.

"Psh, special occasions."

"Hermione, Ron is crazy about you," He said, getting serious. "If you're unsure about something, you need to tell him before you break his heart."

"I'm not going to break his heart," She muttered, feeling sick. He was right, after all. How could she do that to Ron? He was one of her best friends. And he did care for her, no matter how stupid he was most of the time. "I'd never do that to him."

"You might do it without realising or planning it. Hermione, he really is crazy about you. And I don't want to be torn between you two, because you're both my best friends. But if you don't tell him, I'm going to have to."

Her body had gone cold, out in the heat, nonetheless. He was right. She couldn't get between them. Harry had lost nearly everyone he loved and she couldn't do anything to drive a rift between the three of them. Losing Ron- not that she wanted too- would divide them. Harry would be caught in the middle, Ron would hate her, and in the end Harry would pick Ron even if it was the hardest choice he'd ever make. Because Ron was his roommate for years, Ron was his brother, Ron was Ron and Harry was Harry and it was impossible to imagine one without the other.

"I'll fix things with Ron and I'll fix my feelings," She said, feebly.

"It doesn't work like that, Hermione." Harry said, and she could practically see a thoughtful expression on his face. "Either you love him like he loves you, or you don't. And it's okay if you don't, because no one controls how we feel. But you need to tell him."

"No!" She cut in, "I do love him! I mean..." She trailed off, "Sometimes I think I do and then other times I wonder how I can know and if I really do... and it's just hard, okay? Please don't tell him what I told you. Please, Harry. I don't want to hurt either of you and if you do, it'll rip us apart."

"I won't tell him," He said, then added, "for now. I don't want to lose you guys, either. Take some time and try to sort out how you feel. I have to go now, I _am_ at training, you know."

"Oh my gosh! Merlin, I'm sorry! Go, go. And thanks, Harry," They hung up and she dove back into work, thinking about everything. This wasn't going to be easy, figuring out how she felt. But she'd do it, because she owed it to herself and Ron, and even Harry.

When she got home, she headed straight for her room to get dressed. She had a gown for the occasion- she'd bought it last summer after the war. She'd gone into Diagon Alley with Ginny and Victoire. It was Victoire's first outing since giving birth and she wanted to just shop, try on clothes, and feel pretty. So naturally, they went to a dress shop. Ginny was the one that made her buy it. Hermione had protested, saying she'd have no where to where it to, but Ginny had insisted, sighting an unforeseen special occasion. It sounded like right bull to her, but apparently Ginny had been right.

It went down to the floor and was a perfect shade of turquoise. The shoulders were lacy and there was a deep V-neck cut with some lace right at the divide. It had a tiny belt that looked to be made of ribbon at the waist and there were beads in the centre of it. The dress flowed easily, twirling around. She giggled, then faced her back at the mirror and glanced behind her. The back was open, again covered in lace. She felt beautiful. She pulled her hair back and slipped on her heels and a pair of earrings.

She expected to be nervous, but she found herself more curious than anything else. She'd never been to a fancy Ministry dinner before. What did everyone do at these events? Did they just sit around and talk about how much better they were than everyone else? Or did they actually just let loose and chill out? She was about to find out.

Both her parents were in the living room when she walked in with her matching clutch. She didn't want them to make a big deal about it, but she figured they would since the last time she dressed up was her fourth year and they didn't even see that in person. She hadn't really gone glamorous for graduation, just a simple spring dress. But not tonight. She figured her parents would make a deal about how she looked since that's what parents did.

Her mum gasped and Hermione cringed. "No, please. Don't." She started, when she saw her mum open her mouth to say something. "I really don't want you to make a big deal about this."

"Sweetie," Her mum murmured, "You look absolutely beautiful."

"Thanks," She murmured, her cheeks heating up. It felt like she was fourteen again and walking down the steps to the Great Hall in her pink dress, feeling beautiful for the first time. Viktor had been waiting for her at the bottom. He'd kissed her cheek and took her hand, telling her how beautiful she was in his low Bulgarian accent that made her body tingle. They had walked together into the hall and she had worried she'd fall in the heels she'd learned to walk in that morning. But she had been fine and the entire population of Hogwarts had nearly had a brain aneurysm at the sight of her.

Her dad had stood up when she walked in and he seemed speechless- as evidenced by his total lack of verbal communication at the moment. His mouth formed an O as he looked at her and her blush increased. It was easy for them to be so blown away- they were her parents. They were supposed to get blown away about everything. She wondered how the Malfoys would react. If they were knocked speechless, they probably wouldn't say.

"You look very nice, sweetheart," Her dad finally uttered.

Her mum turned to him, "Nice? Surely you can manage something better than that."

"No, no, really-" She started, really not wanting to hear her dad try and compliment her. Her dad could never compliment anyone.

But before anyone could say anything, the doorbell rang. Hermione started to walk over to get it, but her mum raced passed her. "Mum!" She called, horrified. What was she going to do? Demand Draco to say she was pretty? She felt her body go still as the door opened and she saw the back of her mum hugging the front of Narcissa. The door was half open and she couldn't see anything else. Narcissa's face was heavily made up and her hair was tied up in her customary tight bun.

She wished they would hurry up. It was torture, standing there, watching them make small talk. Waiting. And waiting. Her mum and Narcissa went back and forth: the conventional how are you, nice weather we're having, you look wonderful (her mum to Narcissa), thank you (Narcissa to her mum).

Finally the door creaked open as her mum led Narcissa inside. She bit her lip, bracing herself for the many possible reactions. Hopefully they would be positive. Marty filed in with the Malfoys and stood off to the corner.

"Oh, Hermione, you look beautiful!" Narcissa proclaimed, walking over to her to give her a hug.

She hugged back, feeling a bit more relaxed, but still nervous and curious about everything. She closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to see Lucius or Draco. But when they pulled back, she had to open her eyes. She realised they hadn't seen her dress either since Narcissa had blocked it, so this was the big moment.

Lucius seemed completely unmoved, which made sense since nothing ever moved him, so why should a turquoise shade of fabric be any different? She glanced over at Draco, holding her breath. She shouldn't have been this nervous, but she felt her stomach coiling and uncoiling rapidly. She almost didn't want to look, but he was standing there in his customary all black with an added cloak, as it was like a hundred sweltering degrees outside. He looked like he always did. Only the slightest hint betrayed his stoic exterior to show he was a little knocked off-guard and that was the way his eyes ere less narrowed than usual.

She felt them boring into her, like they had at their first meeting, but they weren't narrowed in a glare like they had been in the beginning. But they were the tiniest bit wider this time. Was it horrible she had noticed? Had she been able to read him that well? No- this was the first time she'd been able to notice anything.

Hermione deflated a little, but then reminded herself she didn't care if Draco didn't find her ravishing enough for his taste. She still felt beautiful and they couldn't take that away from her. She hugged her parents goodbye and grabbed her wrap. It was so hot out that she didn't even want to bring it, but she was hoping the Greengrass' home would be freezing. She didn't know how Lucius and Draco were standing there in their cloaks, not passed out.

She followed them outside to the Apparation point. "Hermione, you travel with Draco since you've never been to the Greengrass' before." Narcissa said, turning back to give her a smile.

She nodded and then glanced over at Draco who had been walking next to her without saying a word. It was so hot outside that she felt the heat beading on her forehead and she'd only been outside for minutes. Draco seemed unaffected and only the sweat running down the side of his face told her he felt it too. Or maybe _he_ didn't, but his body did.

She wanted to say something. The quiet was horrible. And she wasn't used to being around Draco and not talking. They usually talked about books or muggle electronics or the Olympics. And at school they usually fought. She had no idea how to be next to him and quiet. It must have been the heat that made her say such a ridiculous thing. It swarmed up around her and suffocated her brain, "You're dressed like you're going to a funeral." It was the same thing she had said at dinner and that had gone over so well the first time.

He quirked a smile, but it was wiped away quickly enough. "This is where all good conversation goes to die, so yes, it is a funeral in some sorts."

"But I thought pure-bloods were oh, so intelligent and trained in etiquette since birth." She teased.

His nose crinkled. "Apparently not all lessons took."

"I see," She added, "Since you are obviously not well versed in etiquette, nor are you exceptionally bright."

He smirked to himself, like he should have seen that one coming. She high-fived herself mentally and wiped the sweat from her brow. Draco turned to her and said, "Would you care to enlighten me?"

"Well," She said, not missing a beat, "it is common knowledge and proper etiquette to compliment a pretty girl when you see one. Especially when she is dressed extra special."

She _never_ expected him to agree with her. "You're right." He said. He lowered his head and placed his lips by her ear and said, "You _do_ look exceptionally beautiful tonight." He offered his arm and she stared at it like she'd never seen an arm before. She felt her mouth go dry and nearly passed out- from heat exhaustion, not because anyone slightly over average looking had said she was 'exceptionally beautiful' in a rather sultry voice in her ear. So close, in fact, that his warm breath caressed her skin and sent shivers down her spine.

"We do need to Apparate," He said and she realised he looked rather pleased with himself. Like he had known _exactly _how she'd responded to his little game.

She rolled her eyes, narrowing them at him. "You think you're so funny. Little trick like that. You know, it's fine. You've spent my whole life telling me how ugly I was, but you can't take anything away from me tonight. I will find my _own_ way to the Greengrass'."

"Granger!" He called, catching up with her as she stalked away. She wouldn't have been alone anyway. There was a whole camera crew following them. One of them could help her if really couldn't manage it, but she doubted she'd need anyone's help. "Granger!" His voice shrieked again. His hand was on her arm, spinning her around.

She opened her mouth to yell, but he said all in a rush, "Youreallydolookbeautifultoni ght."

"Pardon?" She asked.

He took a deep breath before saying, "You really do look beautiful tonight. I really mean it. And you look beautiful all the time, no matter what I've ever said."

She almost laughed, not believing him. But then she looked at his eyes and saw how much they were willing her to believe it. They were open wide and grey, like the sky after a storm. She felt her body still as she stared up at him and his arm burned where he was touching her. She didn't know what to say as the meaning of his words washed over her. He seemed like he meant it and the thought made her woozy.

No- that wasn't what made her feel sick. They had Apparated! She gasped, pulling away from him. "Never do that again!"

He smiled at her, the first real smile she'd ever seen. And the first one he didn't hastily wipe away, either. It was big and beautiful and it lit up his whole face. His teeth were white and straight- a perfect, dazzling smile. She couldn't smile back at him since she felt like she was going to puke. She never felt this sick after she Apparated on her own. She groaned and leaned back against one of the trees on the Greengrass' estate.

"Couldn't resist, Granger," He said.

She breathed rhythmically and started to feel better. Once she was better, she righted herself and turned to walk up the long driveway. Draco followed behind her.

"Why aren't you wearing green?" She asked.

"Why aren't you wearing red?" He shot back and then muttered, "Always knew you should have been in Ravenclaw."

She glared at him and then looked back ahead of her. "I always wear colour. You, however, appear to only dress in black."

"That's because you haven't seen my pants," He said, and she was brought back to the morning in the study where he had made another sexual joke. She didn't say anything or look at him when he showed up next to her. "If I wore a green shirt, we would have clashed. But I'm in all black, so we match."

She rolled her eyes, "Because you were thinking of me when you got dressed."

He muttered something inaudible and then they were in front of the mansion. She hadn't paid much attention to the estate when they arrived since she'd felt sick and talking with Draco. But the house was big- made of stone. The lands were lush and stretched out for miles. There were lights bursting through the windows and she wondered who she would find behind the walls. She didn't really know anyone. Hopefully the Greengrass' muggle born keep would be at the dinner also. She hadn't spoken to him, but he'd been in his late thirties, very different from Jenna and her.

"Will everyone..." She started, feeling like a little girl. But she couldn't help remembering the statue in the Ministry during the height of the war. 'Muggles in their rightful place.' All the people that believed those things were right in front of her, in that house. No matter how much she dressed up, they'd never forget. "...hate me?" She finished, her voice sounding weak.

Draco touched her shoulder lightly before stepping through the door. "Come on,"

* * *

**A/N DUN DUN DUN! And that's where it ends! For now, anyway. The next chapter holds what goes on at the actual pure-blood par-tay. I hope you liked it :D The dress Hermione wore is something the gorgeous Kate not-so-Middleton wore, so if you just search her up and add turquoise dress you'll see it. If you care. Anyways, bunch os stuff happened here. Some George drama, Harry, Draco :D**

**Oh, and pants is an English term for underwear. If anyone was confused there. **

**Thank you to: asyouwish76, FuryPossessed, ILoveSiriusBlack4, edwardsoneandonlylove, LoveableLeo, and sapphire-lights. You guys are the greatest :)**


	13. Chapter Thirteen

_CHAPTER THIRTEEN_

'You two are a strange pair. You are a pair, aren't you?'  
'We're in training.'  
~Maggie Stiefvater, The Scorpio Races~

Draco introduced her to everyone, though she needed no introduction. Everyone knew who she was, "Harry Potter's best friend," one stuffy old man said, waving her off. Another rattled off something else she was used to hearing, "The brightest witch of your age." Draco steered her around the room, his hand on the small of her back sometimes- her back that was covered in lace. She could feel his body heat seeping into her and it kept her comfortable in the air conditioned room since she'd abandoned her wrap with the coat witch. There was a live band playing slow music and several people slow dancing all around the room.

There was a chandelier, Hermione noted, her eyes scanning the room. It felt as grand as the Great Hall back at school. Just... richer. Where Hogwarts had stone floors, the Greengrass' had marble. Their giant picture frames were lined with gold. It was bright- not a bulb out. She couldn't help comparing it to the Manor. The Manor's front rooms had felt fake like this did, but as you went further in- the study, for instance- felt real and lived in. She wondered if the Greengrass' had secret rooms like that. Where their real lives took place.

She didn't see Narcissa and Lucius or the camera crews, but figured they were around. Especially since the Greengrass' also had their own crew. Draco handed her a tiny cocktail glass and she took a small sip before setting it back down. She expected him to down his, but he took careful sips and walked around with it. She couldn't help stealing glances at him. Even though he always wore black, she never got bored of it. It made his features more pointed. His hair was slicked back, like it used to be in first and second year. She had nearly forgotten about that.

She expected people to be talking about politics, literature... something. But as Draco steered her around the room, she realised everyone was mostly gossiping.

"And did you hear about Martha," An old woman in a red dress and pearls asked, her voice dripping with contempt. "She ran off with that boy from town," The women around her gasped, like this was the worst crime to have been committed since the war.

Draco shot her a look that seemed dangerously close to 'I told you so.'

"Maybe we can start the conversation then," She said, hoping the whole night wouldn't be like this. Draco didn't seem to think this would work and he led her over to another cluster of people. She was disgusted to hear them talking about a pure-blood family in Italy that was sending their daughter to school in _America_- the horror, those fat Americans and their way of thinking that they owned the world.

Hermione narrowed her eyes and added, "America might be all those things, but at least they figured out how to elect their officials."

"Yes, and every few months there is a new sex scandal," Draco drawled, standing next to her.

Everyone in the group turned to look at them. Hermione's mind whirled- Draco followed American politics? How did- what? He seemed to have noticed her shocked expression and he added, "I know everything about sex scandals. Mostly sex, but scandals as well. When you put the two together, it's like," He made a noise that sounding like a mini explosion and used his hands to illustrate the point.

She rolled her eyes, but their diversion from politics to sex seemed to remind someone in the group of another piece of juicy gossip referring to the son of a pure-blood family in Australia and a kangaroo. Hermione rolled her eyes, walking away from the group. Draco was next to her in no time, taking a sip from his glass. She didn't want to admit he was right, but it was quickly appearing like no one at dinner wanted to discuss anything of importance.

"So the Olympics," Draco began, "I have a question."

She rolled her eyes. "What now?" It really wasn't a hard concept- she had no idea why he kept bringing it up.

He grinned at her and then asked, "What is considered a 'global sport?'"

"For men, it has to be played in four continents and women three. And remember, five continents compete in the games." She answered easily.

Draco looked at her, "How and _why _do you know that?"

"Is that what this is about?" She asked, something finally clicking into place. She grinned, "You're trying to find something I don't know?"

"No," He said defensively. He grinned before shrugging and asking, "What don't you know?"

She paused, wanting to give him an honest answer. He snorted as she thought and she glared at him. This felt too easy. Maybe there was no one at the party willing to make interesting conversation, but here was Draco asking about the Olympics and following American politics- even if it just was for the sex scandals. Had he always been this way?

"I don't know how many volcanos there are in Hawaii," She declared proudly.

Draco nearly choked on his drink. He hastily put the half empty glass down on a passing busboy's tray. He looked at her with a strange grin on his face, like she was a present he wanted to unwrap. "How did you come up with that?"

She shrugged, "Look, something else I don't know."

She didn't expect to be having such a good time with Draco Malfoy, of all people. But she had been having a nice enough time with him the last few weeks, so it shouldn't have been much of a shock. Her stomach growled and she looked over to see if he'd noticed.

He had. She asked him when dinner would be served.

He shrugged, "When everyone is drunk enough." She watched him scan the room before turning to her and wrapping his arm around her waist again, "Granger, lets d-"

"Draco!" A high-pitched feminine voice called out. Draco flinched, his arm falling away from her as they both spun around. Astoria Greengrass was flouncing over to them, her green dress sparkling in the light. She was taller than Hermione and nearly eye to eye with Draco. Hermione was jealous of her legs and hastily tried to not look annoyed. She was supposed to be building bridges with pure-bloods. And maybe Astoria would turn out to be interesting, like Draco. She highly doubted it- but she should try and stay positive.

When she looked at Draco, she saw his relaxed and conversational demeanour had deflated. Did he not like Astoria? He seemed to not really like anyone in the room to begin with. He nodded at her, his lips drawn in a straight line. But she had remembered seeing them in school together sometimes. When Pansy Parkinson wasn't fawning all over him, Astoria was always in his lap or running around getting him something.

Where was Pansy anyway? Hadn't it been her dream in life to marry Draco after graduation?

Astoria wrapped her arms around Draco's neck, pulling him flush against her. Hermione watched, biting her lip as Draco reluctantly put his hands on her back. He pulled away quickly, practically prying Astoria off him. He was different, she noted. He never seemed to mind female attention back in school. She hadn't noticed it seventh year since he'd spent most of it alone, but every other year he was followed by girls giggling after him or launching themselves at him. It seemed Ginny wasn't the only that had noticed how good looking he was.

Hermione wasn't sure what to make of it all. The war _had _changed him. In more ways than one. She wanted to talk to him about it, learn more about him and what he believed in now. She was irritated at Astoria for twirling her hair and touching his arm. She was saying something about being so happy to see him since they've been _sooooo_ busy.

"This is Hermione Granger," Draco said, cutting of Astoria's speech about how she let her hair down because she knew Draco liked it that way. Hermione couldn't up noticing her own hair had been pulled back, but she quickly pushed that superficial thought away.

Astoria barely glanced at her, but Hermione jumped in. "What have you been up to since graduation?"

"Shopping," Astoria answered. She turned to Draco, "I heard you're going to Scotland next month." She touched his arm again. Hermione rolled her eyes.

Draco nodded, "And Hermione is going to university."

Several things happened at once. He called her Hermione- which he had been doing all night, but only in introductions. Now he actually referred to her in conversation as Hermione. Next, he had outed her secret about university, which wasn't even an actual thing yet. Third, he kept bringing her into the conversation. She didn't know which one made her heart pound dangerously.

Astoria glared at Hermione- like she had realised all the same things. "What will you be studying?" She asked, her voice sugary sweet, like she decided to go along with whatever Draco wanted and he clearly wanted her in the conversation.

She shut her eyes tightly before muttering, "Law."

"I thought you were going to be a teacher," Draco said, turning on her.

Astoria's glare hardened, like she realised the pair of them actually had conversations of importance before and this was clearly something Draco had enjoyed talking about. Hermione wished she'd go away so she could yell at Draco for bringing this up. And so Astoria could also stop making assumptions. They would eventually be the ideal gossip for the next cluster of people Astoria went over to.

"I changed my mind," She said, through gritted teeth, sending a glare over to the Slytherin boy that seemed more than content to keep this conversation going.

"What will you do with a law degree? Run for Prime Minister? Minister of Magic? Or is it Mistress of Magic?" A naughty grin settled across his face and he said, "That sounds sexy."

"Maybe I'll move to America," She muttered.

"You need to be born there to be president." He smiled, "Sorry to burst your bubble."

"So you don't just know the sex scandals," She grinned. He looked at her with something new. She saw it in his eyes. They twinkled and she yearned to know what he was thinking. How could they just talk and talk and _talk?_ What had the war done to him?

She didn't mind he had to look down at her, while he could look straight and he'd be looking at Astoria's face. She kind of liked it. Her jealously of Astoria's legs ebbed away. Astoria, on the other hand, had nothing but jealously for the petite witch in front of her. She stalked off, fuming.

Neither noticed her exit. Draco finally spoke, "The sex scandals are an added bonus. Especially that one Italy."

"Berlusconi," She supplied.

"Yes, I know that. _Silvio _Berlusconi," He added, to prove he actually knew what he was talking about. "Everyone was so shocked about it like there hadn't been a scandal like that in Italy for hundreds of years, but no one cares about Cinziagate."

"You know about Cinziagate?" She asked, containing her laughter. His Italian was so bad, but hers wasn't much better. He stumbled over the pronunciation but somehow it still sounded good. She was still so blown away by everything he knew that she never gave him credit for.

"Sex interests me," He grinned at her, "And anyone with the name Flavio."

Flavio Delbono was the mayor involved in the scandal. She couldn't stop her laughter this time. It was so fascinating. Not the sex scandals, but everything he knew. Had he always followed sex scandals of politicians or was this something he'd picked up on after the war?

"So when did this happen? I went to school with you for seven years and I have never seen you reading. Now your head is always buried in a book. And you're naming politicians and sex scandals and... I'm so confused. And you keep asking about the Olympics!"

He shrugged, "I needed stuff to do after the war. Father was in and out of the Ministry and the whole world hated us. The Ministry kept threatening to send Father to Azkaban, but he paid 'em off and gave up names. Mum was going on about changing and being different people. She started taking dance lessons. So I started reading since we had that huge study no one used. Father kept to himself and that's how its been." He reached for a new glass from a busboy and downed it easily. "What did the war do to you?"

It was heavy stuff for a dinner party, but she told him anyway. "After sixth year, I used a memory charm on my parents' to keep them safe. When the war ended, I went and found them in Australia and restored their memories. So that's one reason I haven't moved out yet."

"You're scared of losing them again," Draco said, his voice soft so no one else heard. He took her hand, pulling her out of the large estate. They exited the door they had come in and stepped out into the humid night. They were safe from eavesdroppers, but Hermione knew a camera had followed them.

She felt safer in the cover of night. Probably from the months she had spent running with Harry and Ron on their hunt for Horcruxes. She glanced at Draco in his long sleeved dress shirt and trousers, wondering if the heat was getting to him. Her skin felt clammy and was grateful her hair was pinned back.

"Please don't tell anyone else about university," She said, turning to him. "I haven't told anyone else or picked out a school. Okay?"

His eyes were wide. "And you told me?"

"I didn't tell you!" She huffed, "I told your mum."

He rolled his eyes, "Same thing."

"So will you not say anything?" She went on, ignoring him.

He nodded and together they walked around the house. Mostly they walked in silence, but occasionally someone would ask a question and they'd lapse into a simple conversation before drifting off into silence. It was easy being around Draco- which was the last thing she expected. But it was like he understood her- which _she_ didn't very well understand, but that was okay. She was content to just accept it for now.

"Can we check if dinner is ready now?" She asked. He grinned and they walked back to the house.

Inside they found everyone sitting down to eat. The band had stopped playing and the two of them grabbed two seats next to each other. She found Narcissa and Lucius across from them farther down the table. The first course was tiny, some sort of seafood appetiser. She felt out of place- this was clearly the fanciest meal she'd ever been to. Draco whispered to her which utensils to use for what since there were nearly ten different forks, spoons, and knives next to her.

Everyone was making their own conversations based on who was around them. Hermione found herself listening to a story about this woman's daughter getting accepted into a prestigious care of magical creatures program at Beauxbatons.

Draco snorted and Hermione elbowed him. That didn't seem to help the situation and his face turned a startling shade of red. She was dying to laugh and she felt her eyes tearing up. Draco noticed her own struggle and looked ready to burst any moment. This was horrible! They were so immature and rude.

"Ms. Granger," An older wizard, in a tweed suit said in his stuffy voice, "have you decided what you want to pursue? With such a mind, I can't imagine you wish to stay at a book store."

Hermione had to get her shaking body under control. She tried to swallow her laugh, but she didn't know how that was possible. If she took a sip of water, she would probably choke or spit it out all over the older gentleman. Seeing her dilemma, Draco snorted again and it made her want to laugh even more.

Finally, she opened her mouth to say something, but Astoria cut her off. Hermione hadn't even noticed Astoria had taken a seat nearby, but it wasn't much of a shock. "She's going to _muggle_ school," She sneered. "To study law."

There it was. Her secret was blown. Hermione sucked in a deep breath and nodded, to confirm the story. The older wizard seemed confused and she knew she'd be the centre of all their gossip in no time. "Muggle school?"

"Yes, university." She explained, "Most muggles attend when they turn eighteen and they get a degree in whatever subject they choose."

He didn't look very impressed by this. She added, "England is home to the two best schools in the world: Cambridge and Oxford." She hoped good ol' mother England would help salvage this rapidly failing conversation.

"Of course she does," the man said, smoothing down his tie. He turned away, talking to the lady next to him about their next course that had appeared like the food at the Hogwarts' feasts.

Hermione glanced over at Astoria who looked proud of herself. She looked away, determined not to let Astoria get to her. Instead, she looked at the man across from her that had such blatant contempt for the ways muggles educated themselves.

"There is nothing wrong with university." She declared, drawing a bigger audience than she had expected. "Muggles might not have magic, but they have knowledge. You can study mythology or medicine. There's more than one sport. Not everyone does the same thing. You can read different newspapers and be in the choir or do improv- which is this thing called comedy. University offers so many different experiences that you can't get anywhere else."

The older man was clearly taken aback. She glanced over at Draco to see he was giving her that look he had on his face earlier when she caught him fibbing about only following politics for the scandals. She stood up, excusing herself.

The cover of night, once again, provided comfort. She didn't care she had just said what she did. She was proud she hadn't let that guy talk bullocks and get away with it. Draco came outside moments later. Once their eyes met, they finally succumbed to their laughter.

* * *

**A/N I distinctly remember telling someone to yell at me if I don't update in 5 days. Look what happens when you guys leave me to my own demise! Anyway, chapter is here now! I hope you liked it! Lots of good Draco/Hermione stuff in there, I thought. I don't know if I mentioned this before, but I finished my college applications! Like... a week and a half ago? I'm so excited! And terrified. Anyway, I need to go do my AP Psych work, so please, please, leave me a review so after I finish my work I can read all your awesomeness. **

**THANK YOU SUPER MUCH TO: lilliebookworm53, HalfwaytoNowhere142, Guest (although I wouldn't quite agree, but to each their own), edwardsoneandonlylove, FuryPossessed, and Loveable Leo! :D **


	14. Chapter Fourteen

_CHAPTER FOURTEEN_

__'They played at hearts as other children might play at ball; only, as it was really their two hearts that they flung to and fro, they had to be very, very handy to catch them, each time, without hurting them.'  
~Gaston Leroux, The Phantom of the Opera~

Dinner at the Burrow the following week found forgiveness and merriment. George arrived with Angelina, who had a pie for dessert. Upon seeing Hermione, he gave her a big hug and just like that all ill will was forgotten. The Burrow had been magically cooled, but there was a warmth in the air that drew them all together. Ron kept his arm around Hermione, who leaned into him and kissed his cheek whenever she could. Harry rocked baby Victoire and made adorable baby faces at her. Percy had brought paperwork with him, but George playfully set them on fire and then he took baby Teddy from his mum and gave him to Percy, who seemed quite pleased with himself at having gotten control of the little boy.

There was music and Hermione grabbed Ron and brought him over to the "dance floor." It was actually their living room, but Ron didn't refuse her. Although he did just shuffle from left to right awkwardly. She buried her head in his neck, enjoying the feel of being near him. He smelled of soap and something that was just unique to the Burrow. It was nice- it was familiar and it comforted her.

Harry broke up their twosome and once again they were a trio. He had given Victoire back to her parents once she started crying. Harry was no better dancer than Ron, but he was also willing to try. Hermione laughed, throwing her head back, feeling as free as she could be. She'd been at work all week with hardly any free time. Her whole body had ached from being on her feet all day long all week, but tonight she felt happy and buoyant. She could have danced all night.

Everything was wonderful. She had no reason to ever doubt her feelings for Ron. They were real and she was happy and the relationship was _right_. She couldn't explain it, but it just was. This was where she wanted to be. There was no way she could ever doubt her feelings for Ron when the mere sight of him made her... something. It made her happy. Whatever it was, she wasn't willing to let it go away. There was no one she wanted in his place.

Not even Draco Malfoy, like Harry had asked her. It was true, she'd been having a great time with him. But he wasn't Ron. It was that simple. It didn't have anything to do with the fact that he would never like her or the kind of person he'd been before. It was simple, really. He wasn't Ron and the only man she did want was Ronald Weasley. No one had anything to worry about. No hearts were getting broken.

She could feel the cameras trained on the three of them as they danced. Harry spun her around before shaking his hips and kicking his leg up. She laughed so hard tears streamed down her cheeks and she couldn't breath properly. Ron was laughing too and he grabbed her shoulder to pull her closer. If she could freeze time, this would be the moment she stayed in. It was all she needed to be happy.

There was a knock at the door. Hermione barley heard it over the noise. Ron smiled brightly and she turned to him, but he was already running to the door. She turned to Harry, confused, "Who else is coming? Charlie isn't on vacation... is he?" She asked, referencing the other Weasley brother who worked in Romania. He was hardly home. Hermione hadn't met him until nearly four years after she had become friends with Ron and his family. He didn't come home much.

"No," Harry shook his head. "Jenna is coming. Ron didn't tell you?"

"Oh." She said, looking over the door, where Jenna had launched herself into Ron's waiting arms. She was determined to hide her disappointment. After so little time spent together, she was looking to forward to hanging out with just the Weasleys and Harry. She had nothing against Jenna since she'd only seen her once, but she knew Jenna was spending plenty of time with Ron and the others. Couldn't she have one night to herself?

"This is my girlfriend, 'Mione," She vaguely heard Ron saying. She turned, finding Jenna right next to her. She plastered a smile on her face, sticking her hand out.

"It's so nice to _finally_ meet you! These two have told me so much about you, I feel like I know you already!" Jenna said. She disregarded Hermione's hand, pulling her in for a hug. Hermione hugged her back awkwardly. Jenna's voice was ringing in her ear, her voice was so high-pitched. It reminded her of Lavender Brown, Ron's ex-gremlin. She instantly felt a stab of regret for her mental thoughts- Lavender had died in the battle. She'd fallen from a balcony and then been attacked by the psycho, every-possible-ophile-that-existed werewolf Fenrir Greyback.

"Yes, erm, you too," She pulled free, noticing Harry biting his cheek. She glared at him, there was no reason for him to be enjoying this.

A silence overtook the group and Hermione was ready to shout at someone for inviting Jenna Boyle. "I'll find some more music," Jenna finally said, when the CD they'd been playing stopped.

"I'm going to get a drink," Hermione muttered, leaving the room.

"I'll get one too," Harry said, following her. She hoped Ron would too, but he stayed behind as Jenna riffled through Mr. Weasley's collection of muggle music. Mr. Weasley had always been fascinated with muggle things even though he didn't know what any of it was. He'd been collecting things for years. When Ron had brought home Harry and Hermione, his two muggle raised friends, it had been a happy day.

"She's not that bad," Harry said, once they'd made it to the kitchen. "Honest, she just takes a bit of getting used too. Ask her about cars," He suggested, "She loves cars and she knows a lot."

She slammed the water pitcher onto the counter, grabbing a glass from the cabinet above. "Geez, 'Mione, calm down," Harry muttered.

"I don't want to ask Jenna Boyle about cars." Hermione growled, pouring a glass of water. "I wanted to dance with my two best friends, eat good food, listen to George talk about his new exploding chocolate frog or whatever he just invented, and just _relax_ after the crazy week I had. Tomorrow I have to take the Malfoys to a matinee at the West End. All I wanted to do was catch up with my friends, not have to do whatever it is I'm supposed to with Jenna."

Harry touched her shoulder. "You can still do those things. Come on, we'll go dance right now."

She cracked a smile, nudging Harry. "Sorry, I think I'm PMSing."

Harry blushed and looked away from her. "You really need some girlfriends," He muttered.

She rolled her eyes, "Ginny isn't here. And by the way, when she is here, eventually she'll be bitching to you about it, so get used to it. No, it's fine. I don't want to dance."

"You just said you did," Harry muttered. "I don't get women."

They went back into the living room to find Ron and Jenna arm wrestling. So much for music. Hermione took a seat on the arm rest of the chair Harry plopped himself onto. They watched in silence, while Jenna and Ron went back and forth.

"You're so going down, Weasley!" Jenna exclaimed, Ron's arm shaking.

It looked like they were gripping each other's hands tightly. Hermione's brows furrowed as she watched, their hands turning red. She glanced at Harry to see if he was concerned. He didn't appear to be. He'd pulled the Prophet from the coffee table and started doing the crossword with his wand. "Do they do this often?" She asked.

"Sometimes," He said, his tone blasé.

She looked back at her boyfriend and Jenna. Ron's tongue was touching his upper lip. It was the most concentrated she'd ever seen him. "No way, Honey Badger!"

Honey Badger? He called her _honey badger?_ If anyone _ever_ called her a honey badger-

"She's a Hufflepuff," Harry said, not lifting his head from the paper. It reminded Hermione of how Draco would say something to her while reading a book. She smiled at the memory for a moment.

"I know that." She said. The animal of Hufflepuff house was badger. She couldn't help herself. She went over everything she knew about honey badgers: they were closer to weasels and bears, native to Asia, Africa, and India, thick skin, carnivorous, and were no where near extinction. Why would anyone want to be called a honey badger? They didn't usually travel in packs. They're born blind. They live in _holes_. Things weren't looking so good for the honey badger nickname.

And a honey badger wasn't even the emblem of Hufflepuff house. It was just a badger, plain and simple. What was Ron's problem throwing the 'honey' in there? It irked her. So was Ron not even noticing she, and Harry, had come back into the room. Harry sans a drink. He was so concentrated with his stupid arm wrestling. You'd think with his weeks of impressive auror training he'd be able to whip this scrawny girl's butt. Harry had quite obviously buffed up- his arms and shoulders looked very nice under his button up. Ron still looked like he did when he was fourteen: tall and lanky with no sign of improvement.

Finally she helped Harry with his crossword. Angelina came in some time later, begging them all to have more pie. She didn't listen to any of their protests, handing them a paper plate with a hearty slice of blueberry pie.

Hermione laughed as Angelina scurried away before any of them could throw it at her. She collided into George who had come in looking for her and the two of them went tripping back into the yard. Hermione smiled and saw Harry was doing the same, but Jenna and Ron were busy having a thumb war.

"One, two, three, four, I declare a thumb war!" Jenna sang with gusto for the tenth time that night.

Hermione rolled her eyes, not able to take anymore. "You have that look on your face again." Harry said.

"What look?" She turned to him, finishing off her pie.

"Just before you blow up on Ron. So are you unsure about something again?" Harry noticed everything, she realised. Was she deluding herself earlier when she was positive all she wanted was Ron? Was it because it was so familiar and she didn't know what she would do without it?

"I... I don't know," She said, softly. She'd promised him she'd be honest. He was her friend. He'd listen. "I was so happy all night and then Jenna showed up and he's like... become someone else."

"This is who he is," Harry told her. "'Mione, I'm going to tell you something."

"Okay,"

"No, it's really important." Harry said, his face dead serious. She looked at him, lowering her head. Something changed between them, she could see how nervous he was, but the resolve in his features to tell her. "I think you and Ron have grown apart. I'm only telling you this as your friend. I don't want to see either of you hurt yourselves."

"You... you think we've grown apart?" She questioned. She was starting to regret that second piece of pie.

"I think you've grown up and he's just kind of stayed where he's always been. The difference is, you've noticed it and he hasn't. Don't get me wrong, he is madly in love with you, but it feels like you aren't." She shut her eyes, wishing she could shut out his words, but they took hold of her, like a mime had tied her up with an imaginary rope and started to pull.

"Please don't be mad, 'Mione," He pleaded. He had taken a risk telling her that. She wouldn't be mad at him for that. If the same thing happened with him and Ginny, and she told him that, she wouldn't want him to be angry.

"I'm not. Thank you for telling me how you feel." She said, controlling her voice. "I guess I'm not done trying to sort everything out."

The next day she got dressed for the theatre. It had been awhile since she went to see a show and also a whole week had gone by since she saw the Malfoys. She'd spoken with Narcissa in owls throughout the week, mostly planning their trip today, but that had been all. They were going to see 'Chicago.' Hermione figured if they boys were bored, at least they'd have sexy women in leotards to gawk at.

She stood outside of the Garrick Theatre. It was an old theatre, opened in 1889 and named for a great actor who mostly performed Shakespeare. She was eager to tell Narcissa that fact. The architecture was gorgeous, the balcony on the second floor with pillars. It took her breath away. The contrast of the navy blue, the white stone, and golden lettering stunned her. She had forgotten how perfect the theatres on the West End were. Everywhere she looked there were perfect, quaint playhouses gearing up for matinees. Queues were forming as eager theatre goers talked amongst themselves about how excited they were.

She was in charge of keeping their tickets safe and they were in her bag. The Malfoys arrived and her eyes landed on Draco first. He was dressed as he always was, decked out in black. She was used to it now and the book he was clutching in his hand. She felt her body heat up, but it had to be because the sun landed right on her. She pushed her sunglasses down from their perch on her head and waved.

Narcissa hugged her, wearing a floral skirt that made Hermione smile. She nodded at Lucius who still hadn't warmed up to her. She doubted he ever would. She wanted to hug Draco- she realised, looking at him. For a moment she thought he did too, but he didn't. "What book?" She asked.

He glanced down, like he forgot he was holding one. "Fellowship of the Ring."

Her eyebrows rose. "That's a muggle book." She poked his flat stomach.

He grinned, curling inward. "A little bird told me it was good."

"I also remember a bird telling you to watch 'Doctor Who.'" She said, playfully, her hand under her chin.

He scratched his head, like he couldn't remember. "Oh, yeah. The alien that had a box. Not gonna happen."

She rolled her eyes, "You will one day."

"As if,"

The line moved forward and she pulled the tickets out of her bag and gave them each theirs'. "Oh," Draco added from behind her, "there are six volcanoes on Hawai`i, the big island. Thirteen in total."

"What?" She asked, turning towards to him.

"You said you didn't know how many volcanoes were in Hawaii. Thirteen." He explained, smoothly.

"When did I say- oh. Last week?" She had completely forgotten about that. He remembered? He _looked it up_? And he was telling her?

"Yup. Now you know everything." He grinned at her.

She sucked in a breath and was terrified to notice her heart was pounding. Pounding, pounding. What was that? No! She had a boyfriend. One she loved- most of the time. Something like that. She risked a glance up at him and saw he was still looking at her. What was she going to do? When had _THIS_ even happened? She remembered being annoyed at Astoria at the dinner. She _had_ stared at him a lot during their reading in the study. He was always looking at her.

Merlin.

This was not supposed to happen. She needed to get rid of this.

She looked away, handing her ticket to the man in a suit at the door. He scanned it, handing it back to her. She turned, gesturing for the Malfoys to do the same. Narcissa handed hers over nervously and Lucius looked disgusted at having to get that close to a muggle and his infernal machine. When they were inside, an usher led them to their row in centre orchestra and handed Hermione four playbills. She took them, following the Malfoys into the row.

She found herself next to Draco. She took in a deep breath and felt her body flame up again. There was no sun to blame it on this time and the room was blasting with air conditioned air. She handed him the playbills- she more like threw them at him so she wouldn't accidentally touch his hand. He looked at her oddly, before taking one and passing them to his mum. Lucius wouldn't take one from his wife, so Narcissa huffed and tossed it at the camera crew that had magicked their way in.

Hermione flipped through the book, her leg twitching. She felt too close. Their elbows collided on the shared arm rest. She hastily pulled her arm away and saw from the corner of her eye, Draco had abandoned it as well. She didn't move her arm again. She flipped through the cast's head shots. Hopefully there was someone cute she could distract herself with. Unfortunately, this was 'Chicago.' The cast was predominately women and the two men in show were Billy Flynn, the good looking- but older- shady lawyer. Then there was Amos who was meant to be a bumbling idiot. Hermione sighed and busied herself by reading the list of scenes even though she could recite this entire show from memory.

Draco nudged her, making her jump nearly ten metres in the air. He looked at her like she was losing it, his eyebrow quirked up. She tried to smile and he said, "Are you okay? You don't look too good."

Great. She had tried to smile and ended up looking like a sick gremlin. She nodded.

"I'm confused." He said, back to the reason for his nudging in the first place. He held up the playbill. "There's just adds for cars and some interview with someone that isn't in this show. And a list of places to eat."

"If you keep going you'll find the stuff about the show," She said, trying to go back to studying her own playbill instead of the way his hair fell into his eyes. His hair wasn't gelled back today, like it had been at the dinner party. His hair was free most days, so she should have been used to it, but recently everything was starting to make her feel a bit queasy.

Her abrupt turn must have shocked him since they usually had no problems talking. He probably thought she was mental. "You sure you're okay?" He asked, his lips dangerously close to her ear. His warm breath washed over her, gluing her to her seat like a kid caught stealing cookies before dinner. She felt like a deer caught in the headlights and her eyes probably reflected that.

"Yes," She squeaked. She cleared her throat and relaxed when she felt his gaze move away. She was happy when the lights dimmed and the show began. She thought it would be easy to lose herself in the show and forget whatever it was that was going on with Draco and her abnormal, pounding heart. It was for awhile, until her legs started getting stiff. She squirmed around, trying to get comfortable again and that's when Draco moved his leg at the same moment.

His leg brushed her, sending a lightening fast _zing_ up her leg. She jumped again, pulling away quickly as gravity would allow. She shut her eyes as Matron Morton belted out "When You're Good to Mama." When she looked up, the chubby woman was shimmying, her assets prominently displayed. She looked down at her legs and then over where Draco's were. Did he _have_ to move precisely when she was? The seats were cramped enough, he could have waited his turn.

She breathed in and out, telling herself the _zing_ was from the shock. Not because it had felt _good_ or something. How could a pair of smooth trousers on her bare legs feel good, anyway? It had lasted a mere millisecond anyway. She tugged on her shorts and looked back at the stage. Her fingers started folding her playbill, her anxiety getting the best of her.

_Nothing with Ron has ever felt like that,_ her mind said, tugging at all her insecurities. She wanted to brush the thought away, but suddenly she was comparing _everything_ with Ron with her precious two-ish weeks with Draco. It was so wrong, but she couldn't stop herself. There was something about Draco that kept pulling her in even though she kept trying to run away.

And he understood. That day he showed her where she'd been tortured. He hadn't said a word. Ron would have. He wouldn't have been able to read her that well. He would have just started rambling on until she cut him off. Draco being there had just made her feel better. No, no, no. That could _NOT _be true.

His leg brushed her, taking her out of her thoughts. Billy was singing, a cluster of showgirls on his arms and she realised she had totally missed 'Cell Block Tango' due to her crazy, boy infested debate. She tensed up and glanced over at him. He wasn't moving. His leg was just, there barely touching her, just hovering nearby. No. No. She should pull her leg free.

Now.

Any minute now would be nice.

It seemed her brain wasn't sending the correct message.

Biting her lip she stared up at the stage for the entirety of act one. When the lights came up after Velma and Roxie sang 'My Own Best Friend,' she glanced over at the Malfoys. Narcissa had a big smile on her face as she stood up to stretch. "It was fantastic," She gushed to Hermione, "Those are some tough girls."

She grinned, standing up too, finally taking a step away from the force that was Draco Malfoy. He followed suit and they all walked outside for some fresh air. It felt good to walk, she thought she could shake Draco from her thoughts. He left them to go to the restroom and Lucius stayed in his seat like a child throwing a tantrum, so it was just Narcissa and Hermione.

"I can't believe I've never seen live theatre before. How come there is none in the wizarding world?" Narcissa asked.

Hermione shrugged, "It's amazing, isn't? We can probably go to the stage door after the show, if you want. We can meet the cast, get autographs, take pictures."

"Pictures that don't move?" Narcissa asked.

Hermione nodded, glad she was catching on. Narcissa seemed pleased at the thought and started talking about how much she loved Velma Kelly. Hermione lit up- Velma was her favourite character too. Most people loved Roxie, but Hermione had always imagined playing Velma. "She's got this _great_ song in act two called, 'When Velma Takes the Stand.' It's amazing!"

"I'm so happy we're doing this. Hermione, I mean more than just seeing this show." Narcissa said, taking Hermione's hand in hers. "I know Lucius isn't happy, but I'm so thankful for everything you've taught me and its only been a few weeks."

Hermione blushed, shaking her head. "Really, it's nothing-"

"Art, literature, theatre... it's all so fascinating. That TV contraption your father was showing me. And your home," Hermione cringed, but Narcissa shocked her by saying, "it's so warm and wonderful. It's nothing like the Manor where we hardly see each other. Your family is perfect."

"We're not perfect," Hermione laughed, her cheeks growing red. "But thank you. That, uh, means a lot. You guys aren't what I expected either- at least, you and Draco."

Narcissa smiled, "Lucius is too set in his ways. I'm glad Draco still has a chance. For a moment two years ago, I thought it was all over."

"Nothing is over. Not really," She smiled, checking her watch. It was time to head back inside for act two.

Draco and Lucius were sitting in the chairs, talking amongst themselves. They stopped when the women arrived, suspiciously like they had been talking about them. Hermione glanced at Draco with a raised eyebrow and he shrugged. She rolled her eyes and reclaimed her seat.

"Did you like act one?" She asked, feeling a bit better after getting some air.

"Sure. The scantily clad women were nice." He sent her a sly smile.

"Typical," She muttered, shaking her head.

"No, no. It's uh... yeah, it's cool. Kind of scared of all the women killing men, but yeah, it's cool." He said, picking up his playbill. "Am I supposed to read this again?"

She was about to say something when the lights dimmed and the music swelled. She forgot all about the drama that had plagued her for act one and settled into the show. It was easy since Velma had a song that opened act two. And then Draco's leg was brushing up against hers and she didn't move. Not an inch.

Because nothing was ever over. Not really.

* * *

**A/N HIIII! There is a hurricane coming! Never, ever thought I'd say this living in NYC and all. I hope you enjoyed the chapter :D Thanks so much to everyone that reviewed! Especially to the lovely anon reviewer that reminded me I was coming up on 5 days. I was not going to update tomorrow, and then you reminded me! :D And because we may lose power I'm gonna put this up one day early for everyone that won't be affected by the storm and just _dying_ to read the next chapter haha. **

**THANKS TO: Loveable Leo (_;)_), Anon, Jazu-chan13, Taylor F, Snape Savvy, DoCtOrWhOlUvEr11, Guest, edwardsoneandonlylove, and HalfwaytoNowhere142.**


	15. Chapter Fifteen

_CHAPTER FIFTEEN_

'You can't force love, I realized. It's there or it isn't. If it's not there, you've got to be able to admit it. If it is there, you've go to do whatever it takes to protect the ones you love.'  
~Richelle Mead, Frostbite~

Hermione didn't want to leave her bed. It was Sunday, so she wasn't supposed to have work, but they were short staffed so Joy had asked her to pick up a few hours. She called in sick and pulled the covers back over her head. She was technically sick, anyway. Love sick. Confused sick. Something sick. She wasn't in any state of mind to shelve books or help anyone find what they were looking for. Or give any book recommendations to customers. She'd probably end up sending everyone to the self help section with a lecture about never falling in love. Not that she was in love.

With Ron. Or Draco.

Crookshanks stepped on her leg as he continued his upward hike to her face. When he reached there, he meowed- his breath stinking of fish. She crinkled her nose and shoved him. This didn't deter him and he was back moments later, meowing and bumping his head into hers. She groaned, "Go away."

"Hermione?" Her mum's voice questioned from the hallway. "What are you doing home?"

"I'm never leaving my bed ever again." She declared, giving Crookshanks another push. "No matter what you say."

"Hermione-"

"I mean it!" She cut off, but her words came out muffled by the pillow, so she didn't know what her mum heard.

There was silence and then she felt the bottom of her bed dipping and she realised her mum had joined her on the bed. "Okay," She groaned, stretching back until she was lying on the bed. Hermione curled into a ball as her mum's arm wrapped around her over the blankets. "What is going on?"

"I hate boys," She muttered. "But other than that, everything is just spiffy."

"Boys, huh?" Her mum laughed. "Let me take a wild guess which ones."

"Please don't," She moaned, not feeling up to discussing it. Crookshanks let out a clipped meow and hopped off the bed, probably to go wake up her father and demand for food again. "Really, I just want to lie here and wallow in whatever this is."

"My daughter does not _wallow_," Her mum said, as if the word physically wounded her.

"She does today. At least for a few hours." She managed to get a few more hours of sleep in and when she woke up for the second time, she glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. The red numbers told her it was noon. She sat up, stretching, satisfied to see she was alone. No cameras, no cat, and no parents.

She slipped out of bed and padded around the freezing room in her skimpy pyjamas. She turned off the air conditioner and pulled on one of Ron's oversized sweatshirts. It didn't really smell like him anymore since it kind of become hers over the last few months, but it still comforted her as if he were holding her. After that she pushed open her window to let some fresh air into the room.

Downstairs she found a note telling her that her parents had gone food shopping. That was what they did on Sundays anyway, so there was nothing odd about that. Plus, her dad's convention was tomorrow, so they were probably picking up extra pairs of socks and travel sized toothpaste or whatever it was he needed. She made herself toast and did the crossword from yesterday's paper.

She was alone- besides Crookshanks curled up on the couch. She didn't know what to do. She hadn't been alone in weeks. They had a reprieve from shooting commitments on Sundays- unless they made plans beforehand. She enjoyed the silence for awhile, but she couldn't stop her brain from reminding her why she had stayed in bed longer than usual.

It wasn't just Draco that was confusing her. It was Ron. And it had nothing to do with what Draco was doing. But sometimes the tiny things Ron did annoyed her. Things she never really liked, but never used to bother her. She never used to mind that he clipped his toenails in the sink but didn't wash them away. But now, if she walked into his bathroom and found his toenails in the sink, it irked her to no end. And when he'd open a container and then walk away, leaving it opened. Or when he'd not tell her he finished all her dried mangoes and she'd just walk into the kitchen, open the cabinet, and find no dried mangoes. Was it so hard to say, "'Mione, I know dried mangoes are your favourite snack. I finished the last of it, so you need to buy more before your next craving kicks in and you have none." Better yet, why couldn't be _buy_ her a package of it every once in awhile- since he finished it most of the time?

These were all bad signs, right? This couldn't possibly be love! The little things weren't supposed to bother you. They were supposed to drive you crazy- in a good way. At least, that's what she'd read in books. And while Ron did calm her by simply being there, sometimes it just made her feel more on edge. Or he just didn't know what to do. And after eight years he should have understood her a bit better, right?

And then there was the fact that she always felt like the bad guy. Like she had to baby him. She remembered the day at the ice cream parlour at Diagon Alley where she'd had to remind him to swallow before he spoke. She'd spent half her time at Hogwarts reprimanding him for something. What was that about anyway? Had Harry been right? Was she way ahead of Ronald on the maturity scale? Would he ever catch up?

She wished she could switch her brain off. Happily, she found a 'Doctor Who' marathon on BBC and that distracted her. But then it started conjuring up memories of the other monster that had started haunting her thoughts. Draco hadn't seemed at all interested in the premise of the show. He had repeatedly mocked it, in fact and expressed his contempt. If he couldn't respect the awesomeness that was the TARDIS than he clearly did not deserve her attention.

On second thought... neither could Ron. She watched the show with Harry most of the time. This was getting too complicated. She turned to the TV and focused on the old episode they were playing. This one featured the tenth Doctor who was frantically trying to save New York City from the Daleks- his mortal enemy- in the 1930s. She shoved Draco and Ron from her mind and pulled out her phone to text Harry.

_10 about to exterminate Daleks._

His response was immediate and it warmed her heart, making her laugh to herself: _What else do you think I'm doing?_ She should have figured he'd already be watching. It was like Harry had a sonar planted in him that detected whenever an episode would be playing. She tossed her phone onto the cushion.

There was a pecking at her window. She got up, finding a Hogwarts owl. Ginny. It was scorching outside when she opened the door to retrieve the letter. The owl fluttered off, apparently not thrilled to be working on a Sunday. She ripped open the letter and tossed the envelope onto the table.

'_Mione,_

_I just heard The Green Ramones added a second London tour stop. I'm so mad I'm stuck at Hogwarts! I want to see Heath Wexley live so bad! His voice makes me want to melt and his eyes! Mione, I can't believe I'm STUCK HERE! I need to marry Heath Wexley. It's like fate- have you SEEN our last names? _

_Anyway, that wasn't the point of this letter. But really, Heath Wexley! He is a bamf. But I just got wind of the Weasley rumour mill and it turns out you have your own sexy bamf. No, I don't mean my brother. That would be gross. Apparently everyone thought you were getting a wee bit too cozy with Draco Malfoy? Pray tell, sweet sister. What does all this mean? Anyway, who can blame you? He is hot and apparently there must be something goin' on in that brain if you like him. So spill it, because I'm not letting you off the hook. I will owl you every single day until I get a response. And not some shite one liner about loving my brother, because:_

_1. Hermione, my brother is a bumbling buffoon. _

_1a. A loveable bumbling buffoon, but still a buffoon. And you, Hermione Jean Granger, deserve a man. _

_2. Draco Malfoy is a very, very sexy man. And if you like spending time with him, then he must be more than _just_ a very sexy man, even though we all must agree that he is sexy._

_And 3. I am the only friend you have that is a woman and not your mum. I am the only person you can gush to this about. Preferably about Draco's sexiness. And I will not judge you one bit._

_So, 'Mione, I expect a novel length letter back with juicy details. Are his hands big? Curious. Harry has big hands. Anyway, I miss you and I'll be home in three weeks. If I don't hear from you before then, you will be the proud owner of twenty-one letters by yours truly. SPILL IT._

_Love,_

_Ginny_

Hermione tried to suppress a smile, but she couldn't. She missed Ginny, she realised. She hadn't noticed how much until the letter had arrived. She should have known Ginny would always be there for her. It appeared both Harry and Ginny were all for Team Draco, although Hermione wasn't sure why. She didn't know if she wanted to.

* * *

It was time to finally tell her parents about university. She narrowed her list down to three schools and had contacted them about possibly applying for the spring term. All the admissions' counsellors she'd spoken to had been perfectly helpful, all eager to tell her what she would need to do to apply in the coming months. She felt confident in her decision, it was right for her. Hermione loved school, there was nothing wrong in continuing to get her undergraduate degree. She had always thought she'd go to university anyway, growing up as a muggle for half her life.

She was going to tell them at dinner. She helped her mom set the table. She had made meatloaf, her dad's favourite, since he'd be leaving early the next morning for his big conference. Crookshanks had plopped himself in the middle of the kitchen and watched the two women fussing around with curious eyes.

Hermione stepped over him and huffed. She carried plates into the living room and caught sight of her dad staring at the tv. He wasn't working on his speech for once, and she wondered if he was nervous. But her dad was good at public speaking, so everything should go fine for him. Back in the kitchen Crookshanks had obviously gotten bored since his orange head was face first in his food bowl licking the bottom. She rolled her eyes at his drama, but poured some more dry food into his bowl.

When the three of them sat down to eat, Crookshanks joined them- curling up under the table and going to sleep. Hermione didn't blurt out her secret right away- she filled her plate with vegetables and took the slice of meat her mum passed her. She waited while her parents did the same and started eating. Her mum started talking about a new dance show coming to town she wanted to watch.

Hermione nodded along, trying to keep calm, but she was anxious. She was expecting them to be excited, since they had also always envisioned her going to uni after secondary school. But of course she had never gone to secondary school. She glanced at the telly where a news anchor was talking about the stock market.

"So, um," She started, catching her parents' attention, "I've decided to go to uni for the spring term. I'd like to study political science." She looked up from her plate and found her parents' eyes plastered on her. She smiled.

"Really?" Her dad pipped up, looking at her with shinning eyes.

She nodded, feeling like a weight had been taken off her. She'd been carrying the secret around for weeks and now she was free. "George gave me the idea to study politics and I wasn't really sure about uni until I sorta just told the Malfoys about it. I've been doing some research and picked out some schools I like."

"Oh, Hermione, that's wonderful." Her mum said, mirroring her dad's expression. "Would you get a job in um... _muggle_ politics?"

"I don't know, yet. It depends. It's just that, in the wizarding world there's all these changes going on since the war and George pointed out to me that all these people in charge don't really have training and that could be why nothing gets done. So I was thinking about getting a degree and then..." She trailed off, unsure where her speech was going. Was she really going to work in the Ministry?

"My daughter, single handedly fixing wizard politics," Her dad, beamed, proud.

She blushed and shovelled a piece of meat into her mouth.

Monday found her back to her old routine. George was alone in the shop when she visited him and, surprisingly, the shop was less crowded than usual. She nicked a box of Jelly Firecrackers- she had no idea what those were- and dropped them on the counter.

George jumped. He smiled at her and then looked at what she'd put the counter. "What do you plan to do with these?"

She shrugged, pulling out a galleon. George hastily shook his head, refusing to accept her money. She groaned, "Take it! I want to pay for it."

"No,"

"Merlin," She rolled her eyes, putting the galleon on the counter. "Don't be so insufferable."

"Insufferable," George sniffed, "that's a big word."

"That's why I used it," She grinned, flicking the galleon. It flew off the countertop and landed somewhere on the floor. She was triumphant, "Ha. You need to keep it now."

George looked down, not seeing the coin. He looked at Hermione and raised one eyebrow before saying, "_Accio Hermione's galleon,"_ In a flash the coin appeared back on the table. He returned her triumphant smile and then laughed at her scowl.

"Take the bleeding coin!" They were both stubborn, she had no idea how long this would go on for. Thankfully Angelina came in the store and broke up their squabble, putting the coin in the cash register. George pouted, but it instantly melted away when she kissed him.

They were alone again and Hermione told him about university. He was happy for her, "Can't say I'm very shocked about it."

She grinned, "Yes, yes call me a nerd. I know."

He smiled, pushing his hair out of his face. "You're gonna be great, 'Mione. Did you heed my advice?"

"Oh, heed," She joked, "that's an interesting word."

"More people should use it," He noted.

"But if you must know, yes, I'm going to go into political science, so thank you. But if this fails, I'm blaming you."

"It won't fail." He smiled at her, "You're too bloody brilliant for it to fail."

"Yeah, yeah, okay. _Now,_ onto the real reason I'm here," She paused for dramatic effect and George played along with her. His eyebrows disappeared underneath his red hair that kept falling into his eyes. "A little red birdy told me you're planning to propose to a certain-"

He clamped his hand across her mouth. "Ron told you?" He said through gritted teeth, looking around furiously to make sure Angelina wasn't around. "Ears like a hawk that one," he added, as if that justified his reaction.

She pulled away, "Yes, Ron told me."

George muttered something to himself along the lines of loose lips and little brothers. Hermione nudged him, "This is a good thing. It's gonna be fine, there's no way she'll say no."

"You think? Ron said the same thing, but he still thinks you like it when he touches your feet."

She shivered, before saying, "Yes. She loves you. You two are meant for each other."

George got a faraway look in his eyes and she wondered if he was thinking about Fred and how "perfect" he and Angelina had been. "He'd want you to be happy." Hermione added, softly, touching his arm. "And you both found each other. It's not anything to be guilty about."

He nodded. Moments later a mad smile overcame him and he turned to Hermione, "I'm proposing."

* * *

Wilson Betemit looked through the footage. There was an overload of Weasley stuff. They were always with Jenna Boyle. Jenna took them everywhere- car shows, go-carting, mini golf, swimming at a local pool, some card game tournament called Sopio- as if anyone knew what that was. They might have hit a goldmine with the Hermione-Draco-Weasley love shape, but there was something else here.

There was Ron and Jenna. Especially the footage they got recently of Jenna and Ron holding hands all night while Hermione sat dejected with Harry Potter. Maybe that wasn't exactly what had happened, but it was still damaging. This show was turning out to be way more exciting than he ever imagined.

"Sir," The door to his office opened and one of his assistants stuck their head in, "you have a meeting with Jepsen."

Jepsen, Wilson remembered, was the editor of the Prophet. "Send him in," he said, turning his laptop off.

Jepsen walked in, wearing a suit. He walked with a limp, as he had since childhood when he got into a car accident. Jepsen was a halfblood, so he'd grown up with his feet stuck in two worlds. He'd taken over as editor at the Prophet thirteen months ago. He had a lot more comics added than there used to be, but no one was complaining.

"Hello, Jepsen," Wilson said, standing up to shake his hand.

Jepsen greeted him back amiably and pulled out a folder from his briefcase, setting it on the desk. "I understand you wanted press coverage for a debate. What debate is this?"

"Politics, Jepsen. And the elections. And there are some moderators I'd like to... _recommend._"

* * *

**A/N I owe you guys so much thanks. Seriously. Chap 14 got the most reviews _ever_ and so many of you were hoping I'd stay safe. Fear not, one week has gone by and I am alive! Still no power, but I HAVE CONQUERED SANDY. Ahem. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and you'll review again, since I've been stealing so much wi fi at the library. I've been rereading Harry Potter since there's NOTHING TO DO. I'm slightly losing it. And my NaNo word count is so awful since I have anxiety. Scared of the dark and all. And no hot water. Or Dancing With the Stars. Or Homeland! Really, I don't know what I'm doing without Homeland. My mom misses her hair dryer. And I just play Angry Birds and Scrabble on my Nook. Anyway, I'm talking too much. **

**I LOVE YOU PEOPLE SO MUCH: ILoveSiriusBlack4, Taylor F, FuryPossesed, alannalove1990, C. Kiss, edwardsoneandonlylove, Jazu-chan13, GottaGetBackUp, asyouwish, Kleptokitten, Loveable Leo, arula, and Guest. If you wrote me anything about the hurricane, I tried to get back to you :D Thanks so much. You made my trips to the library special. **


	16. Chapter Sixteen

_CHAPTER SIXTEEN_

'So you're Zach.' Townsend didn't even try to hide the judgement in his voice as he looked Zach up and down in some sort of silent but dangerous examination.  
Zach huffed but smiled. 'So you're Townsend.'  
The two of them stared for a long time, wordless. It felt like I was watching a documentary on the Nature Channel, something about alpha males in the wild.  
~Ally Carter, Out of Sight, Out of Time~

"You know, 'Mione, we still haven't met Malfoy." Harry said over breakfast. Hermione looked up from her toast, her eyes wide. She'd stayed over at Harry and Ron's apartment. Ron had let her curl up in his arms and fall asleep. She tugged at the hem of Ron's t-shirt, which was all she was wearing, and shoved the toast in her mouth.

Harry laughed, "I know what you're doing."

"I'm fnot soing anyding." She snapped, defensive, before realising no one could understand her with toast in her mouth. She winced and then swallowed. "Sorry, I'm not doing anything."

Harry smiled at her and she broke down. "When do you want to meet him?" She muttered.

"Meet who?" Ron yawned from the doorway. He wasn't wearing a shirt, just a pair of pyjama bottoms patterned in red plaid. Hermione glanced over at him, expecting him to not react well. He also, put trousers on, which she also hadn't been expecting, so maybe it would be okay.

"Mate, no one wants to see your sad, pasty chest." Harry joked, looking away from his friend. Hermione snorted. The chair next to her moved and then Ron was sitting next to her.

He leaned over, kissing her cheek. He turned to Harry, smirking, "The ladies love it."

"What ladies?"

Hermione couldn't help thinking that Draco would never refer to anyone as 'the ladies.' That was... disgusting. "Hermione doesn't even like looking at it and she should be your number one lady."

She looked over at Harry, whose voice had gone hard. She glanced between them, to see Ron didn't look very happy, either. She didn't know what was going on, but she knew they were having one of those silent conversations. She munched on her toast, wondering if she should be concerned. Ron finally broke eye contact and turned to her, his body still stiff. "Meet who?"

"Oh, Draco." She answered.

"We've already met Malfoy." Ron deadpanned.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Yes, you have. A plus for Ronald." She rolled her eyes and emptied the millions of crumbs in the garbage before washing it in their sink.

"But-" Ron started, "_what?"_

Harry intervened, saving her from having to explain. "We haven't seen D-Draco since the school year ended." Harry said, stumbling over using Draco's name and not Malfoy. "And 'Mione has been hanging out with him a lot for the show. We all met Jenna Boyle."

"Because none of us knew Jenna Boyle." Ron pointed out. "Why would I want to hang out with Malfoy for fun? Jenna is fun. Malfoy? Not so much."

Hermione dried the plate she washed and put it in their cabinet, slamming the door. The boys jumped, probably having forgotten she was in the room. "First of all, _Ronald,_ it is the kind of thing supportive boyfriends do. Second, stop judging the Malfoys. You don't know anything about them and, third-"

She didn't have a third, so she was thrilled when Ron cut her off. "You _LIKE_ the Malfoys? Nasty, Death Eater, muggle hating Malfoy? I'm just making sure we're talking about the right people here." Ron glared at her.

"There you go again! Judging!"

"I'm not judging, Hermione. They've proved it! HELLO, remember sixth year-"

Harry broke in, "He didn't do it."

Ron ignored him, since it was obviously detrimental to his argument. "And the WAR? They fought on Voldemort's side! They used their HOUSE as the headquarters. Git, just fed us to the wolves when Harry saved him. And there was that thing about torturing you! Did you forget that, Hermione? Merlin, we hate him! We've always-"

She felt her body moving forward on its own accord. She was so angry, her body was flaming and her hand was moving before she could comprehend what was happening. It wasn't until her hand was colliding with Ron's face and she heard the crack did she realise what she'd done. She didn't feel the pain in her hand, but she registered the shock in Ron's face.

"How dare you," Her voice was low, deadly. "Don't ever ask me if I've forgotten what _Bellatrix Lestrange_ did. I have been in the Manor so many times these last three weeks and you bring it up now? Harry asked me how I was feeling. Harry cared. Where were you? Do not bring it up now like something that I should carry forever feeling sorry for myself. And what is this 'we' bullshit? _I _can make my own decisions. _We_ are three different people. You can't make choices for me."

"You slapped me!" Ron said, dumbly. She wondered if he even heard a word she'd said.

There was no way she was saying all that again. She pushed passed him and got dressed in his bedroom. She pulled on her clothes blindly and had to pause several times to inside them out. She stormed out, without even fixing her hair. She nodded at Harry who waved, crestfallen. She ignored Ron, who still standing there stupidly with his hand against his flaming cheek.

After work, she found an owl from the Ministry. She didn't have high hopes since the last time this had happened, she'd been sucked into this reality tv show. She wondered what would happen if she just tossed it out without reading it and then she could just tell Wilson Betemit she'd never gotten his owl. Crookshanks parked himself in between her legs, as if he sensed her unease. She picked him up and put him on her bed, joining him.

_Dear Ms. Granger-_

_Due to the coming elections, Minister of Magic Wilson Betemit has instituted a muggle practice called debates where the candidates talk about what they want to accomplish in office on national television. The television is also a muggle object that the Minister has insisted be put in every magical household. All debates must have moderators to ask questions and control the crowds and the politicians answers to make sure nothing gets too rowdy. The Minister has specifically asked that you, Ms. Hermione Granger, Mr. Ronald Weasley, and Mr. Draco Malfoy be moderators for this debate._

_The Minister would like to remind you that you signed a contract agreeing to uphold any marketing appearances and this falls into that category. Thank you for help and continued support in furthering the mission to bridge the gap between wizards and muggles. _

She stopped reading and tossed the letter aside. Not that she objected to moderating the debate, she had been pleased there was going to be a debate in the first place. It had been announced in the Prophet just the other day and was set for the following night. What got to her was why she had been chosen, along with Ron and Draco. This was obviously just meant to stir up some interest. There had to be more qualified people, in the first place, to host an event.

She had no doubt Draco would be able to string some questions together and she would also. But Ron? What was this supposed to be?

She called Harry, who answered on the first ring. "You got it?" He asked, skipping all pleasantries.

"Yes," She said, "What about Ron?"

"He went for a walk. He was off his rocker when he read Malfoy's name." It seemed it was short-lived, Harry calling Draco Draco.

"This doesn't seem right," Hermione confided, conscious of the cameras. But then again, they'd filmed her in Harry's apartment in Ron's shirt slapping her boyfriend. There was pretty much else nothing they hadn't seen. And if they didn't want her distrust for the Ministry broadcast to the world, they could edit it out.

"I know," Harry said, "You three are on odd pair. And don't they usually have old people moderating?"

"I know, it doesn't make any sense. They know how Ron feels about Draco. And I'll be caught in the middle. It's just for drama. I don't like being used." She scowled at her bedspread, trying to think of a way out of this.

But there was no way out of this and the next night she found herself in a pencil skirt and light blue blouse standing outside Dumbledore's Hall- it had been built after the war. It was the biggest exhibition hall in the whole wizarding world. Hermione glanced at her watch, waiting for her boyfriend who was arriving with Harry. She wondered if Draco was already inside and how he was dealing with this whole mess. He must have understood the Ministry's underhanded trick.

Finally, the boys arrived, Ron messing with his tie. Harry didn't look particularly happy and he gave Hermione a weary smile. She returned it and watched Ron continue to struggle with the article of clothing. She wasn't sure if she was allowed to help him since they hadn't spoken since she slapped him. Ron pushed passed her, making the decision for her. It was obvious the pair of them would be putting on quite a show that evening.

Harry greeted her with a hug and led her inside, an arm wrapped around her shoulders. "Have your questions ready?"

She nodded, remembering the notes she'd made on her index cards. She'd brought them with her and was mentally preparing herself. She kept telling herself it was just like her speech at graduation. "Ron still mad?"

"Very." said Harry, solemnly.

"Great," She miffed. A pair of cameras appeared in their face- besides the ones already following them on Ministry orders. No, these were reporters. With this new television age the minister had started, there were also first time reporters with wands as microphones on the scene interviewing people.

"Ms. Granger and Mr. Potter, may we have a few moments of your time?" A woman in an annoyingly bright purple suit asked, shoving the wand that amplified their voice in their faces in a way that told them they weren't getting out of this even if they said no. There were two spotlights shown on them, making Hermione blink her eyes rapidly.

"Ms. Granger, are you nervous about moderating tonight's historic event?" The reporter asked, not waiting for either of them to have adjusted to the lights.

"Erm..." Hermione started, wanting to smack herself for beginning in such an intelligent way. "I'm looking forward to getting to talk with each of the candidates and get the answers people need to vote confidently." She hoped that sounded good.

"Mr. Potter," the woman continued, switching her attention to the forgotten boy beside her. "Are you surprised you were not also called up to be apart of such a monumental moment?"

"Not really," Harry said, in all his usual eloquence. "I'm a bit stumped on how this whole government thing works, so I'd probably be the least useful person up there." There he was, in typical modesty.

There were a few more questions thrown at them before Hermione managed to wrangle them away. She was forced to leave Harry's side as a make-up woman whisked her away. The last glimpse of Harry she got was him saluting her with a smile as he disappeared among all the witches and wizards mulling around the hall. The place was loud, she realised, and wondered how many people were packed into the building.

When her make-up was satisfactory, she stepped out of the tiny room they'd locked her in. She already had her minuscule microphone attached to the collar of her blouse and was assured it would not be turned on until she took her seat near the stage. She flattened herself against the wall as people with headsets ran around the hall. She felt lost and in the way. She wondered where she should go to be out of peoples' way.

"GRANGER!" A familiar voice called out. She had no clue how she managed to hear it over the buzz from everyone, but she turned around, finding Draco Malfoy weaving his way in and out of people. She smiled- thankful for a familiar face in all the chaos. She met him half way, seeing he was dressed in all black. She shouldn't have expected anything less.

"Hi," She said, her stomach doing something odd. She ignored it and put it down to nerves- about the debate, not Draco's proximity or anything stupid like that. "This is crazy, isn't it?"

"I don't like crowds." He said, and she unconsciously remembered how comfortable he always was when it was just him and a book. "But the Ministry has orchestrated this little show perfectly."

So he knew. Of course he did. She rolled her eyes, "I hope they're pleased."

"Judging by the fact everyone is running around like a chicken without its head-"

"You know that expression?" She cut in, her eyes widening.

Draco glanced down at her quizzically, "Doesn't everyone?"

"I thought it was a muggle thing," She explained, "Ron didn't know it-"

Draco scoffed, "I think I know a fair amount more than Weasley."

She couldn't help herself, but her mind was recalling everything he'd ever said about politics and a part of her was agreeing with him. Either way, she opened her mouth the defend her boyfriend's honour, when a hand snaked out around her waist and pulled her flush against them. Hermione knew who it was immediately and she looked up, meeting Ron's blazing eyes.

"Shut it, Malfoy."

"You need better come backs, Weasley," Draco's voice was oddly clipped and he kept staring at Ron's hand on her hip. She wondered what he was thinking and then she was wondering why she was wondering that.

And then she did the worst thing possible. She pushed herself away from Ron and said, "Oh, we're not fighting anymore?"

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Draco's eyebrows disappear and the reality tv crew push closer. She looked back at Ron, watching as his face went from surprised to livid. She couldn't help noticing his tie had been properly assembled and thought scathingly about Jenna Boyle doing it for him. She waited for him to yell, but at that moment he was grabbed by a woman and pulled into make-up.

One woman came over to Draco, presumably to do the same and he growled at her. "Don't even think about it." She scurried away and Hermione couldn't help herself from glancing over at him. Was it so wrong that she was turned on at the moment?

Ginny was right. Draco was a man. A man that was never wearing make-up.

Draco's scowl disappeared when he saw her looking at him. "Trouble in paradise," He observed, watching her reaction carefully.

She wasn't sure what to tell him, but she found herself going with the truth. "For awhile now. Harry and Ginny keep telling me to end it." She was startled for revealing that much and even more blown away by how happy Draco looked. She stared at him, confused, and he immediately wiped his face clean.

"What was that?"

"What was what?" He asked, staring at a random point behind her. She turned, seeing nothing of importance and then turned back to him. "That look you got when I said-"

"Granger, you're seeing things. Now about these Olympeds-"

"_Olympics,"_ She enunciated, shooting daggers at him.

He waved her off. "Why exactly is wrestling a sport?"

"Because men are stupid," She said matter of factly, waiting for him to contradict her. But, as it turned out, Draco didn't seem to have any sort of masculinity issue since he shrugged, accepting her answer. She went to sit down at a tiny couch, that was much too close to the ground with a small table in front of it. Draco joined her and his knees were nearly bumping his chin.

She snorted and he rolled his eyes.

They launched into an easy conversation about university. Draco was curious about you apply to muggle schools so she was filling him in when Ron reappeared. He was frantically rubbing his face, presumably trying to get rid of all the powder. Hermione glanced at him as he threw himself into the chair across from them.

Apparently they were still fighting. She continued tell Draco about university, but felt Ron drilling holes into the back of her head. She turned to him, "_What?"_

The look Ron gave her should have sent her six feet under if looks could do such things. "Nothing."

"Clearly something is bothering you. Speak." She knew she was getting herself deeper into this mess, but she couldn't stop herself. It was like some force was propelling her further into this disaster.

"You two seem chummy." He said.

She rolled her eyes. "So did you and Jenna the other night at dinner. Remember? _Honey badger?"_

"What in Merlin's name is a honey badger?" Draco muttered, next to her.

Hermione turned to Draco and said with a tight lipped smile, "They are carnivorous animals from Africa that are born blind and look like demented skunks."

Draco's nose scrunched up and he said, "Sounds awful. Why would anyone want to be called that?"

"THANK YOU!" She exclaimed, turning to Ron. "Your pet name for her is ridiculous."

"So is yours for him!" Ron shot back.

"What?" asked Draco, looking between Ron and Hermione.

"Draco?" Hermione went on, staring at Ron like he was an alien.

"Yes?" Draco asked her, getting impatient.

"No," She shook her head, still looking at Ron. "I call him Draco. That's his name- in case you forgot. I know you only refer to him by 'Malfoy' or 'bane of existence.' Or 'ferret.' But some of us use actual names." She knew she was taking things too far, but it was like she couldn't control her mouth. Or the filter in her brain that told her when she was making a scene.

Ron stumbled over his words before staring down at the floor. Finally, Hermione shut her mouth and an awkward silence settled over the three of them. At that moment an intern came over to them and said, "We're ready to begin."

* * *

**A/N Hi! I apologize- but I still have no power and THAT IS THE ONLY EXCUSE I NEED. I don't have anything else to say, accept I'm still "living" in the library and there are boys playing Yugi-Oh next to me and they're sooooo loud. Hope you liked it.**

**Thanks to: FuryPossessed, ILoveSiriusBlack4, Taylor F, loverleigh, Jazu-chan13, Loveable Leo, Dramioneluverxxx, edwardsoneandonlylove, and Guest! :)**


	17. Chapter Seventeen

_CHAPTER SEVENTEEN_

'I knowed a man in Paphlagonia who'd swallow a live snake every morning, when he got up. He used to say, he was certain of one thing, that nothing worse would happen to him all day. 'Course they made him eat a bowlful of hairy centipedes before they hung him, so maybe that claim was a bit presumptive.'  
~Neil Gaiman, Stardust~

Draco asked the first question. "If elected, what will you do to help end the corruption that has plagued the system for so long?"

Hermione tried to keep a straight face, but she was sandwiched between Draco and Ron and she was still reeling from the fight she'd just had with her boyfriend, who was currently glaring at the two men that had made it this far in their campaigns.

It was strange seeing them in person, Hermione reflected. She had talked about them too many times to count with George during her lunch break. Faraway looked young because he was young. Probably early thirties with skewed glasses and his suits were always a size too big. He had worked for the Lestranges for a year and so voters were wary of his true allegiances. And then there was Jackson, the older, more distinguished choice, who had won hearts by vowing to abolish the double jeopardy law.

Faraway went first, saying he'd never let people walk or take bribes and all the common aliments that had afflicted the Ministry over all these years. They would pursue every anonymous tip they received about dark magic, no matter how absurd the claim seemed. Passwords that change every week to protect important files. Hermione could feel Ron falling asleep next to her and she nudged his ankle.

Instead of helping the situation, it only made him shift his glare to her. The Ministry must be having a field day over all this. She looked away, wondering what would come next for them. He seemed furious at her. But she hadn't done anything wrong. She'd just been spending time with Draco, like she was supposed to.

She realised she had completely missed out on what Jackson responded with. And now it was her question. She cleared her throat and leaned forward, so she spoke into her wand that was propped up like a real microphone would be. "Good evening, gentlemen. There is a lot of controversy over what the appropriate course of action is over the authority at Hogwarts. Do you think that the school should be under Ministry supervision?"

There were murmurs from the audience that told her she had come up with a good question. She listened passively, noting that Jackson was all for keeping the school separate while Faraway was interested in exploring the possibility. It was Ron's turn to ask his question. She played with her bracelet, hoping she'd draw some hope from it. It reminded her of a happier time and hopefully this night wouldn't get any crazier than it had been.

"Do you feel the rich should be taxed more than middle income families?" Hermione had no idea he knew about different tax breaks. Harry must have slipped him some notes- or come up with the questions himself. She glanced over at Draco and saw he seemed equally as surprised, although he had probably never had suspected Ron of intelligent thought process. She felt bad for being as shocked as she was. She was his girlfriend. What kind of person was she if she didn't have any faith in him?

In what was not a shock at all, both Jackson and Faraway were against the idea. The rotation brought them back to Draco who asked them about healthcare. Hermione brought up equal rights and Ron fell short in his question of population. Hermione stifled a groan- having not even understood Ron's question as he stumbled over the words in a way that told her Harry _had_ thrown the questions together for him. She felt Draco shooting her an amused look, but she didn't dare glance at him.

All she wanted was for this disastrous debate to end. It was getting tiresome and she knew both politicians were lying through their teeth- since that was what politicians did. It was obvious they didn't see how important it was that house elves have equal rights to pay and respect. The debate finally did end and Hermione took off after Ron who had flown off as soon as he was allowed to.

She followed him, screaming his name as he weaved in and out of all the crews path. He wasn't stopping and she was tempted to hex him into submission. They needn't to talk this out and if this was the breaking point, it all needed to be dealt with now. She couldn't take all the fighting anymore. It felt like their relationship had developed into a vicious circle where all they did was quarrel and it wasn't healthy for either of them.

And if they were meant to be together, they'd find their way back to each other someday. That was something Hermione had always believed in- as it was something her mother believed in. And so if she and Ron had to part ways for now, do some growing up and experience things they couldn't with each other, that would be okay. Because if he was hers and she was really his, they'd always find each other again.

She threw the bracelet he'd made her at his head. It hit his neck and he stopped, turning to face her. She matched his glare and crossed her arms, standing as tall as she could in front of him. "We're going to talk and we're going to fix this. Now."

He looked down at his feet where the bracelet was laying. She watched as he crouched down to pick it up. It looked so small in his hands, the colours so bright against his pale skin. He looked broken as he stared down at the bracelet she'd never taken off. And now she'd thrown it at his head.

Ron started laughing.

She stared at him, gobsmacked, until all she could so was laugh too.

_She'd thrown it at his head._

One of her most prized possessions- just like that she'd thrown it away. What did her bracelet matter when Ron could walk away? There were tears streaming down her cheeks from laughing- she felt them, cool against the harsh glares of the lights above them.

Ron's hands were on her arms, pulling her close. "I can't fight with you anymore." His lips brushed her ear and his body enveloped hers. "Hermione, you infuriate me half the time, but I can't be away from you."

She figured there was a compliment in there somewhere. She wrapped her arms around his middle and buried her head in his chest. He was her Ron. Ronald Weasley, the boy with the red hair and freckles who drove her mad.

"I love you," The words came tumbling out, muffled against his chest. But they were there, out in the open. Swimming in his embrace, Ron pulled her tighter, the only sign he'd heard her words. She waited in silence and bated breath for him to say it back. Seconds passed and nothing.

Hermione had never particularly seen herself as the type of girl to say 'I love you' first and she hadn't quite known what had possessed her to tell him that- partially when she didn't know how true it was. But it must have been true if the subconscious part of her had blurted it out. She also knew if she didn't do something, he would never step up. She certainly never expected him to not say it back.

She pulled away from him, but his arms kept her caged against him. She looked up in confusion. "You're not... saying it back?"

Ron blanched and his lips moved stupidly while he searched for the words. All the warmth and happiness ebbed away as reality crashed down on her. He wasn't saying it back. She had just said the most important thing she ever could and all he'd done was _squeeze_ her. What? No. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. She had never envisioned her first 'I love you' to a boy to be rejected.

She ripped herself away from him, stumbling back at the force. Ron looked hurt, reaching out for her.

"No," She said, her mind reeling. She felt like she was about to sick. She was disoriented. Nothing made sense. Ron- _her Ron_, after all they'd been through... nothing. So what in Merlin's name was she doing hanging around trying to save their relationship?

"'Mione-"

"No." She shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself. "Goodbye, Ron."

"Hermione, please- I just... I can't."

"I'm not asking you for anything." She backed away, tears threatening to escape and this time, not from laughter. How had they been laughing moments ago, anyway? How did they go from that to this? She wasn't go to let him see her cry. She'd cried too many times for him anyway. It had started in first year and she'd ended up nearly getting mauled by a troll.

Not this time.

"Time, Hermione." She saw him falling over his words, searching for something that would make her stay. She felt a stab of pity for him, but not enough to keep putting herself through this madness.

She shook her head, taking a deep breath in hopes of keeping the tears at bay. "Bye, Ron."

She didn't cry until she got home. Her mum kept the camera crew out all night.

* * *

When she woke up, her eyes were puffy and swollen. She didn't go look in the mirror, she could sense it. They felt dry, like she had cried out all the tears her body was able to produce. A part of her said that wasn't possible, but it didn't matter to her at that point. It was still dark outside her window. She turned, finding her clock. The bright red numbers stared back at her alerting her to the fact that it was four in the morning. She rubbed her face, trying to make _something_ feel better.

Ron was gone. How had it happened? After years of all their drama, she'd thought she was finally getting her happily ever after. The stories she'd read growing up always ended there. What came next? She remembered telling Narcissa nothing ever really ended, but her relationship had.

One minute they'd be fighting and then they were laughing. And then it was destroyed. She wanted to put on a Disney movie. They'd always been her favourites. She hadn't watched many recent "chick flicks." Disney romances were her favourites and it didn't matter if they were cartoons. They were as real as anything.

Something stopped her as she crawled out of bed and over to her collection of DVDs. Crookshanks hopped off the bed and followed, rubbing his head against her arm. She glanced over at him, planting a kiss on his furry head. When was the last time she'd kissed Ron? If she had known it would be their last kiss, she might have put some more effort into it. Was Crookshanks who she'd be left to kiss?

She went through her stash of princesses. But something stopped her from putting one in and not just because she was torn between 'The Little Mermaid' or 'Beauty and the Beast.' All these stories were based on classic fairy tales. Why hadn't she ever read any of them? She leapt up, startling Crookshanks in the process, and made a mad dash for her laptop across the room.

The screen's light hit her eyes harshly and she quickly lowered the brightness. She opened up a search engine and began with 'The Little Mermaid.'

She was horrified. _These_ were fairy tales? Ariel didn't even have a name and the sea witch _cut her tongue out_. Some magic spell. She kept reading, waiting to find Prince Eric. Turned out he also didn't have a name and didn't find the little mermaid as captivating as Hermione did. He married someone else and instead of turning back into a mermaid and belonging to Ursula- cough, the sea witch- forever, she was turned into sea foam.

Hermione's jaw dropped. _Sea foam_. No. This was not the fairy tale from her childhood. The nameless little mermaid, had been obsessed with having an immortal soul like humans and the handsome prince who didn't love her. Her tongue had been cut out. What was-?

She couldn't process anything and she skipped ahead to Snow White hoping the first one had been a fluke. It took her a few faulty sites to actually find the real story. As she read, she calmed down a little, seeing it followed the Disney film perfectly. It wasn't until she reached the part where the evil queen gave Snow White the apple that she realised the prince still hadn't been introduced. She scrolled back up, checking to see if she missed anything, but he was no where to be found. Perplexed, she kept reading.

There was no way that could be right. The dwarves had put her in a glass case, still admiring her beauty and unable to bury her. Hermione scoffed, there was no way her cheeks would still be tainted red. That would be first thing to go. She kept reading, startled to see that the prince just waltzed in out of nowhere and found Snow White- _DEAD_ Snow White- the most beautiful maiden in all the land and wanted to take her home with him so he could stare at her all day long.

_Hello! Has anyone ever heard of necrophilia? _Hermione wanted to scream, but she kept herself quiet and read on. Shockingly, the dwarves said yes! They had been too distraught to bury her because she was so pretty, but they were willing to just give her body away to a crazy stranger? To make this story a million times worst, the prince's minions were too weak and dropped the glass case, which somehow dislodged the piece of apple in Snow White's throat. She came back to life and they lived happily ever after.

Hermione nearly had a seizure as she stared at the screen. She sat there speechless for so long that the light eventually went out as the laptop went to sleep. How were these the same stories she'd grown up loving? None of this made sense. Where was the romance or... anything resembling NORMALITY?

She searched for Cinderella and if possible, this one was more disturbing than the last. In an effort to get their feet into the glass slippers, the step sisters cut their toes and heels off. Hermione felt like she was going to be sick. Somehow the prince didn't notice his bride had bloody, mangled feet and relied on birds to swoop in and poke her eyes out as they told the prince he was being deceived. This happened twice- once for each step sister.

Violently, Hermione slammed her laptop shut. This hadn't helped anything. It just made her feel sicker. Did boys know what really happened in fairy tales? If they did, she doubted they'd be written off as stories for little girls.

This hadn't solved anything and she slinked back into bed, wishing things were different.

Ron didn't love her. After all everything they had gone through together, he didn't love her. She felt like her body was broken, every piece of her hurt. There was something else, too. She didn't know what it was, but her stomach felt hallow and there was a dull pang. Would she ever feel okay again?

The next time she woke up, it was light out. It was Sunday, which meant she could stay home all day if she wanted. The cameras hadn't been able to film her since she left Dumbledore's Hall last night. She should have had the day off from filming, but there was no way the Ministry was going to miss this. Her mum had done an amazing job of keeping them out. But Hermione knew they'd gotten the entire break-up on film. In a few months, the whole wizarding world would witness it. The thought brought fresh tears to her eyes. She was humiliated.

She finally roused herself, determined to not sit around like a broken toy. They did have the break-up on film and everyone would see it, and she couldn't change that now. But she could still change how she acted now. She wasn't going to just sit around and cry for the camera.

After all, none of the fairy tales worked out like she thought they would.

There was tea waiting for her, along with two cameras. Her mum shot her an apologetic look that told her she had tried her hardest at keeping them away, but it hadn't worked. She shrugged and heard one of the cameramen ask, "How are you feeling?"

"I'll be okay. It's always hard losing people, but it isn't the end of the world." She said, putting some bread in the toaster. She glanced at her mum, who was studying her. She knew her mum was trying to gauge her feelings and see if she really was okay. They'd have to talk later.

"Your father wants you to call him when you're feeling up to it."

Hermione nodded and walked to the living room to get the phone. He answered on the first ring which told her he had been anxiously awaiting her call. "Hermione?"

"Hey dad," Her voice cracked, but she was conscious of the cameras and pulled herself together.

"I'll kill him," Her dad muttered.

Hermione rolled her eyes, wondering how long this conversation was going to last. She heard the toaster click off and she went to retrieve her toast. She smothered it in jam as her dad went on about how Ron wasn't good enough for her and all the ways he'd suffer.

She stuffed the toast in her mouth and tuned into an episode of 'Doctor Who.' Her dad kept going and her mum joined her on the sofa. Hermione's heart nearly soared- her mum didn't like sci-fi and she never really understood the premise of the show. But here her mum was, sitting next to her and staring deeply at the telly, like it was a mystery she was trying to solve.

This was how her mum was trying to make her feel better.

It was the sweetest thing anyone had done for her.

* * *

**A/N HELLO SHINY, HAPPY PEOPLE! I HAVE POWERRRRRRRR! I'M UPDATING IN CELEBRATION! **

**Extra special thanks to: CrescentMoon12, Taylor F, Cyador, edwardsoneandonlylove, alannalove1990, sweet-tang-honney, HalfwaytoNowhere142, and Loveable Leo. You guys helped me stay sane :D And everyone should Stardust if they haven't. Also, I HAVE POWERRRRRRRRRRRRRR. I also forgot how good Order of the Phoenix is (the book). AND THE MORTAL INSTRUMENTS TRAILER! I have so much catching up to do. And the song Little Things by One Direction, and I don't even LIKE THEM. POWERRRRRR!**

**Also... some Hermione/Draco in the next chapter. :D**


	18. Chapter Eighteen

_CHAPTER EIGHTEEN_

'You know that place between sleep and awake, the place where you can still remember dreaming? That's where I'll always love you. That's where I'll be waiting.'  
~J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan~

_Dear Ginny,_

_Ron and I have broken up. It was the last thing I was expecting, but it's over now. We had a fight right before the debate and it seemed like we worked it out. I told him I loved him and he didn't say it back, so I ended things. I don't really know what to do now. I haven't been single in over a year and either way, the passed eight years of my life have been lived around Ron. I cried all night, but I made a decision to let him go and move on. Maybe it's because all those fairy tales I grew up loving, I recently learned, were morphed from what they really are. _

_Either way, Ron doesn't love me. There's no reason to keep waiting around and going through all this angst and grief. The truth is, we've been fighting for a long time and maybe our relationship has run its course. Maybe one day we'll be able to get back to some semblance of friendship, but I can't think about that now. It's time to focus on myself and move forward. Hopefully I'll get into uni and be able to focus on my studies. _

_In the mean time, I have my job at the shop and the show to channel all my time into. Harry's planning on coming over today and then I have plans with the Malfoys in the evening. I was planning on taking them to see the fireworks. There's something special on the Thames tonight. Maybe we'll even ride the Eye. I doubt they ever have since it's muggle. We'll see._

_I hope your astronomy class is going well and the Tower isn't too hot. I miss you a lot, Gin. I'm counting the days until you get back. My mum keeps looking at me like I'm going to shatter into a million pieces. I'm not. To make things worse, that stupid camping trip is coming up. Mum had wanted to bring Ron, but he'd said no because it fell during auror training. Not that if he had said yes, I'd want to go. I don't know where I was going with this. Anyway, I miss you and can't wait to see you again. _

_I realise this is a long letter. And I should be wrapping up now, but I can't quite yet. I wasn't just writing to you to tell you about my current relationship status and moan about how much I don't want to go camping. I also decided to give you all the juicy details you asked for about Draco._

_Not that there are any smouldering details, but since I'm officially single, I feel no shame in writing you this. Draco Malfoy is smoking hot and you were right to say he was a man. _

_You were right, Draco does have it going on upstairs. He's very smart. He's interested in politics, even though he tries to cover it up by saying he only cares about sex scandals. He loves to read, his head is usually always in a book. I mean it. He hardly even looks at me since he's too busy reading._

_This is probably nothing, but the other day when we watched 'Chicago' his leg brushed mine and he didn't move it the whole show. It felt... I don't know. Good, for sure. Maybe it's because your brother always looked so bashful when he'd touch his knee to mine, but Draco was so confident._

_He's always confident. _

_I had a great time with him at the dinner at the Greengrass'. He stayed with me the whole night and didn't even want to talk to Astoria. She tried, boy did she try. But he kept trying to bring me into the conversation and even told her I was going to university- almost like he was proud or showing me off._

_He also said I was beautiful. _

_Anyway, is that enough detail for you? I have a good time with him and I guess I'd consider him my friend. He's easy on the eyes, so that's a fantastic plus. He understands me- he took me to the room where I was tortured during the war and understood exactly what I needed._

_Merlin. I wish I knew what this meant. Because really, why would Draco Malfoy ever like me- and I'm not saying I _DO_ like him. Even though he's changed since the war and is obviously much more open and intelligent and better, he's still Draco Malfoy and he was still raised to believe certain things and he's always hated me. There's no way he'd ever put all that behind him. But it's enough to have him as a friend._

_Cheers,_

_'Mione_

She sent the letter off from Diagon Alley during her lunch break. She wasn't going over to see George. It wasn't just because she was worried George would be on Ron's side, but because she'd have to talk about the break-up and that wasn't something she wanted to do. She was wondering if George would pop over and make her talk, but he didn't and she wasn't sure how she felt about it.

Harry had assured her he wasn't going to dump her now that she and Ron were done. But that was easier said than done. And there was no telling how the Weasleys would react to her now. Ginny was a different story. Ginny had made it very clear she on board with Draco- not that it mattered since neither Hermione or Draco were on board that train. Either way, she'd always have Ginny.

It was mid July, which meant there wasn't a mad rush for school books yet, and there was no book signing going on, so the store was relatively quiet. Joy, her boss, needed some help at the cashier, so Hermione spent most of the afternoon there.

When she got home, Harry was already waiting for her. He wrapped her in a fierce hug and she knew he'd make it work, somehow. It didn't matter if he lived with her ex-boyfriend and ex-friend. Harry was Harry and he valued their friendship. She'd always have Ginny, but she'd also always have Harry. And since Harry and Ginny were together, it would be impossible to shake either of them.

She hugged him back, forgetting about the cameras. Harry was her best friend and the only friend that had been around to hug her since the fall out. He was warm and he held her tightly, like he was trying to mend her just by holding her. She was grateful for him and it did help, even though she still didn't feel whole yet.

They went to her room, Crookshanks following. Apparently, Harry had been waiting for a bit. He'd been having tea with her mum and took his nearly empty mug with him to her room. The cameras followed them. Crookshanks hopped up on her bed and curled up. Harry sat next to him, rubbing his head.

They didn't talk for a few moments, and Hermione realised Draco wasn't the only one that knew her well. She smiled at Harry and it seemed to make him feel better. "You're smiling," He said, watching her.

She nodded, lying back on her bed. "Thank you for not saying anything."

"You don't like talking," He pointed out, "You prefer to just have silent company."

She nudged him with her foot. "Not everyone knows that. Ron never did."

"That's why we're in this situation." He added dryly. It still hurt, but she knew time healed all wounds. It wouldn't be easy, since Ron wasn't just a simple boyfriend. They'd been friends first. For years, not just months. And a part of her had loved him. But she figured since she was able to eat breakfast and lunch, it wasn't that all consuming love she'd read about and fantasised about having. That's what the stories said anyway and even though she'd recently had some fairy tales shattered for her, she still believed it was out there.

"Will the others hate me? I know Ginny won't, but what about George? When he thought I was going to do something with Draco he cut me off."

"But then you guys made up." Harry told her, "He might be mad at first, since Ron is his brother and he feels protective over him, but eventually you guys will be okay. You're not going to lose everyone. Trust me, Ginny and I won't let that happen."

She was too tired to ponder if he had gotten the grammar correct there. She didn't realise she'd fallen asleep until Harry was shaking her awake. His face loomed over her and he said, by way of explanation, "Your mum said Draco is here."

"What?" She was delirious. She always hated waking up from a nap- she usually always felt sick.

"Did you have plans tonight?" He asked.

"Tonight, yes. But it's the afternoon-" She stopped, seeing Harry's face. "What time is it?"

"Nine thirty," He said, then looked bashful as he explained, "Your mum thought it'd be better if we let you sleep. She told me to stay, so I had dinner with your folks a little while ago. You've been out cold."

"Merlin," She sighed. "Can you tell Draco I need to shower and eat something first?" Her stomach rumbled then, like it was crying out for food. She tried to wipe the sleep from her face, and stop her vision from blurring. It was typical post-nap disaster she was familiar with.

Harry nodded and left the room. She realised too late this would be their first interaction since Hogwarts. She tried to get ready quickly so she could get down there and save them. She felt better after she showered and pulled on a pair of jean shorts and a tank top. Her hair hung down wet and she grabbed a pair of bright red converse.

Downstairs, she smelled chicken cutlets and was pleased to find two sitting on a plate for her. There were voices from the living room and she anxiously crept over to see what was going on. Her mouth dropped as she saw not just her parents, Harry, and Draco scattered around the room talking and with a black and white movie she recognised playing forgotten in the background, but Crookshanks was there- _in Draco's lap_. Draco hardly spared a look at the orange fur ball in his lap as he stroked him. It was like he was doing it unconsciously while he talked with her dad about his upcoming job in Scotland with dragons.

What was happening? Had she woken up in a parallel universe?

Harry noticed her and she gestured forcefully for him to join her in the kitchen. He excused himself and went over to her.

"What," She whispered, harshly and a tiny bit hysterically, "is going on in there?"

Harry smiled and whispered back, "Malfoy's not that bad. Crookshanks like him."

Hermione shook her head. "What happened while I was upstairs?"

"I told him what you wanted me too," He told her, like it was obvious. "Then your mum told us to sit in the living room. We weren't talking, but then your dad came in muttering about Ron and I told him that Ron was miserable- which he is, by the way. And then Malfoy wanted to know what was going on, and your mum came in with cookies and started telling the story and then somehow your dad was asking Malfoy about what his career path was."

Hermione slapped her forehead. "My dad is trying to set me up with Draco. This is great."

Harry grinned, but then he looked awkward as he said, "Ginny thinks he's hot."

"I know. She has no qualms about telling me about it." Hermione said wryly, turning her attention to her late dinner.

Harry sat across from her. He looked like he was grappling with something and then he finally said, "He had some good questions at the debate."

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. He likes politics." She said, not really paying attention. She was still too blown away by what was going on in the next room.

"He does?" Harry's voice sounded shocked and when she looked up at him, she saw his eyes had gone huge.

"Yeah," Hermione laughed, "and books. He also liked 'Chicago,' but I don't know if that had to do with a real appreciation of theatre or the scantily clad dancing women singing about murder. Either way, he seemed interested at the horses at the museum."

"Blimey," Harry muttered, like he was considering something.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine."

When she was finished eating, she headed into the living room with Harry at her heels. Crookshanks was sitting next to Draco now, purring loudly. His black trousers were covered in orange fur. No one seemed to notice her appearance, both her parents staring at Draco in awe as he talked about all the different breeds of dragons and their mating habits. What was Draco Malfoy doing talking about dragon sex with her parents?

She felt herself blushing- which was stupid and she promptly tried to shake it off. She reached down to her wrist where she usually drew courage or strength from Ron's bracelet. It was gone.

Her body felt cold as remembered. She'd need to find another security blanket.

Draco turned around, like he sensed her. "Granger," He grinned, "Pleasure of you to join us."

"Ready to go?" She asked, playing with her hands.

He nodded before turning back to her parents. Her mum hugged him and her dad shook his hand. "It was great catching up," Draco said pleasantly. For a moment, she stared transfixed. He looked like the perfect, respectable young man picking her up for a date doing the typical be nice to your parents and play with your pets. "Still out of it, Sleepy Head?" He joked when he caught her staring.

She scowled.

When they were outside, she realised his parents were supposed to be with them. She asked him where they were.

"They're meeting us there," He said easily. After a moment he added, "Or maybe we're meeting them there."

Hermione's family home wasn't too far from the river Thames so they walked. She could tell Draco wanted to Apparate, but he didn't say anything as they walked in silence. There were cars on the street, driving passed them and lights on in the houses on either side. She glanced over at Draco, seeing his face lit by the street lights. He almost glowed. She looked away.

"So," Draco asked, "did you and Weasley patch things up?"

She couldn't help herself from looking over at him. His face gave nothing away, it was a perfect mask. She rolled her eyes, "I know you know. Harry told me."

"Are you..." He seemed to struggle with the words, "well... okay?"

"I'm walking here with you now, aren't I?" She muttered wryly.

She saw Draco smirk out of the corner of her eye. He didn't push the subject and she wondered if it was because he didn't know what to say or because he really did understand her preference of silence. After a few moments of it, she couldn't help herself from saying, "It was unavoidable. We'd been fighting for months and Ginny and Harry kept telling me we were too different. Something like that, I can't remember the actual words. So I shouldn't have been surprised. The Paris Incident was the first sign."

"The Paris Incident?" Draco asked, his eyebrows raised. "Care to elaborate?"

"No. I don't even know why I said that. The point is, I'll be fine. People break up all the time. And yeah, Ron was more than just a boyfriend- he was my friend. It doesn't just feel like I lost a boyfriend, I feel like I lost part of myself."

Draco didn't look like he understood what she was saying, but he also looked like he was trying. It was sad actually, that he'd never met anyone that he cared about that much. She looked over at him, seeing him in a new light. He was probably very lonely. He'd probably always been lonely. It was obvious he'd had no affection for Crabbe and Goyle, the two minions he'd busied himself with at school.

He didn't say anything, so she took it upon herself to keep going. "Sometimes you need to let go of toxic relationships no matter how hard it is. That's the only we can grow. I was scared of losing the familiarity of Ron, but it was time to move on."

"You're incredibly smart, Granger." Draco murmured, looking at his feet.

There was a crowd up ahead which told her they were nearby. "I don't think we're going to be able to find my parents." the boy next to her said, eyeing the crowd.

"Your dad is probably having a seizure." Hermione grinned, thinking of Lucius surrounded by so many muggles.

Draco smiled and it caught her off guard. It was breathtaking and she felt stunned, but somehow kept walking. What was she doing, swooning over Draco Malfoy's smile? No. No. She looked away and pushed her way through the crowd, Draco right behind her. They stood side by side just as the fireworks started.

"Have you ever seen fireworks?" She asked, over the boom. She had to move closer to him, and her arm brushed his. She didn't know why she was dying to know so bad. Maybe because she'd grown up seeing this spectacle and she had just recently started wondering if Draco was lonely.

He leaned even closer to her, making her catch her breath. "Should I have?"

She knew it. She couldn't believe someone had lived for eighteen years and never seen fireworks. She nudged him, "It's the most beautiful thing ever."

"Yeah, it is." He said back. Her eyes weren't on him, they were focused up in the sky, watching the explosions of colour. She didn't know his eyes weren't on the same thing as he agreed with her.

"Look at that one!" She pointed, as the smiley faced fireworks started to fade. "Oh, that's amazing."

His arm was still brushing hers and it reminded her of the afternoon they spent in the dark theatre, his leg brushing hers. Tonight they were underneath the cover or the night sky, watching fireworks, touching arms. She didn't know which was better.

* * *

**A/N Hi! Happy Thanksgiving, my American readers. I'm so FULL! And this Jets game is hilarious! In a very sad way, but I'm just gonna laugh at all the mistakes. Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing :D **

**Thank you to: Taylor F, ILoveSiriusBlack4, Guest, FuryPossessed, edwardsoneandonlylove, CresecentMoon12, Guest (yes, those are the real fairy tale stories. Gruesome, huh?), Loveable Leo, and arabellagrace. **


	19. Chapter Nineteen

_CHAPTER NINETEEN_

'He's not your typical prince, more like a square peg in a round hole, kind of like me. He's the sort of guy who wouldn't mind reading side by side on a date.'  
~Jodi Picoult, Between the Lines~

Hermione was rapidly beginning to realise there was no way she was getting out of the camping trip. Her mum had started packing and buying the camping the supplies they'd been lacking. Everyday she came home with new shopping bags and started pulling backpacks down from storage. Hermione drilled holes with her eyes into the growing pile in the living room with all their stuff.

She did not want to go camping.

She tried appealing to her mum's sense, but apparently she didn't have any left. She didn't seem to remember the utter catastrophe that was the last Granger camping trip and why they hadn't done it again in years. Forever, if Hermione had anything to say about it. Why couldn't they just rent a lake house for the weekend instead? Why did it have to be camping? Did her mum somehow forget that there were no showers? No indoor plumbing? No BEDS?

There were plenty of mosquitos. And rocks. The wilderness wasn't lacking those. But did her mum seem to care? Not at all. She was _humming_, dusting off the flashlights and beginning a search for batteries. Hermione shovelled oatmeal into her mouth, staring daggers at all the camping gear.

Before heading to work, Hermione had to stop and vote. She did, offhandedly wonder if their debate had managed to help some people making their decisions, and then Apparated to Diagon Alley. She had gotten used to walking through the nearly empty streets, waving at shopkeepers as they opened their stores. She felt like she had joined a secret, elite club.

She paused, nearly dropping her half eaten banana. George was standing a few feet away. There was no way she could avoid this confrontation- he was looking right at her. She took a deep breath and resumed walking. If George was mad at her, fine. They'd get over it eventually. If he wasn't, then she had no reason to freak out.

He met her halfway, his hands stuck in his pockets. It was too hot for that, so she figured he was as nervous as she was. His eyes were squinting against the sun as he looked down at her, "Hey, 'Mione."

_'Mione,_ she thought in relief. This was starting off right. If he was angry at her, he wouldn't have used her nickname. She attempted a smile back, "Hey,"

"How are you?"

It could have been going worse. "Okay. Um... are you guys mad at me?"

George's eyebrows scrunched together. He looked perplexed as he asked, "What?"

"For breaking up with Ron," She clarified, wondering if it was possible he didn't know. Maybe that was why he was still talking to her, he didn't know. He'd blow up now for sure. She braced herself, but nothing came.

"Oh, that." He waved her off, "Why would I be mad about that?"

"Because, because," She sputtered, at a loss for words. "I hurt him!"

"And he hurt you."

"You're his brother."

"You're my friend," George shot back. "I'm not just gonna stop being your friend because you don't want to snog my brother anymore. Can't blame you anyway- I'm much more charming."

She rolled her eyes as he fixed his imaginary tie. George looked pleased with himself, but then said, "I know I was a git when you went to that dinner thing with Malfoy. I'm sorry about that. I don't know why I thought you'd cheat on my brother. Anyway, you can't force yourself to be with Ron if you don't want to. You'll just make both of yourselves miserable."

"Do the rest of you feel this way?"

"'Mione, it is common knowledge Mum is in love with you. She's probably mad at Ron for letting you get away." George joked, nudging her shoulder. He didn't stop there, he wrapped his arm around her, escorting her to work. She felt safe, secured under his arm and pulled against his side. George didn't care. He wasn't mad. She took a deep breath, feeling better than she had in awhile.

"Thanks, George." She murmured.

George rolled his eyes, "I didn't do anything."

"You're right," She said, softly, "you didn't."

* * *

Hermione found herself in the usual chair she usually sat in at the Malfoy's study. She had brought a new book she'd gotten at a muggle bookstore with her and was comfortable curled up in the cavernous room. There were goosebumps on her legs from the intense cooling charm, but she didn't mind. She hardly noticed since she was engrossed in the pages of her book. She couldn't remember the last time she'd found a story that sucked her in this much, but it felt good to return to that world.

It wasn't the type of feeling that could be described to anyone. It was the type of thing you had to experience for yourself. Hermione hoped that everyone found a book that stirred something deep within them. When she found a good book, it was all she thought about it. She spent days obsessing over the characters and replaying favourite scenes in her head.

Lucius Malfoy was sitting across from her. She knew if he had any freedom, he'd be miles away from his home when she was around. But the Ministry- and Narcissa- made sure he stuck around. They hadn't succeeded in making him be overly friendly to her, but he'd managed simple pleasantries.

Draco was next to her, in his usual chair, reading a book. He'd been reading a history book the last time she saw him, but this book looked new and she hadn't gotten a good look at it. Besides Draco seemed as into his book as she was, so she hadn't bothered him. The three of them were just sitting there, in silence, and she knew the Ministry wasn't going to be pleased with how boring they were.

Marty stepped in, handing them all scripts. "What the hell is this?" Draco asked, viciously snatching the pages out of his hands.

Hermione flipped through the packet, disgusted at what they were expecting her to do. Did _reality tv_ mean nothing to anyone?

Lucius scowled and Hermione wondered if he was even going to accept the script. Apparently the threat of going to Azkaban was still enough to make him comply with Marty's demands.

"I'm not saying this bullshit." Draco declared, tossing the pages on the floor. He looked down at his book, like that would end everything.

Hermione glanced at Draco. He did what he wanted and she wondered if his brashness with everyone was his way of fighting back since he could never say no to his father. Maybe she was reading too much into things. Either way, his refusal to read lines so he could keep reading was... sexy. Gosh, she was turning into Ginny.

"You signed a contract." Marty said, looking a tad insecure. "If you break it, your father will go to Azkaban."

"So take him." Draco muttered.

Hermione gasped, wondering if he really meant it or he was just being difficult. The image of the Malfoys crying and hugging after the battle at Hogwarts came back to her and she knew he was just being nasty on purpose. There was love there. Somewhere.

She didn't want to chastise him- which was weird since she spent her whole life chasing after Harry and Ron. She glanced over at Lucius and saw him glaring at his son. He opened his mouth, "Show some respect."

"I would if you showed _her_ some respect." Draco nodded his head in Hermione's direction, his voice tight and controlled.

Her eyes widened and she felt herself flushing. Draco kept going, not realising that what he was saying was way better than anything the Ministry's script writers could have come up with. "Or, if you just showed anyone an ounce of respect."

Lucius looked like his head was going to explode. Or a vein was going to pop. Either way, he did not look good and Hermione wasn't looking forward to being around when he finally snapped. "Watch your mouth, Draco."

She thought he'd have more to say, but it shocked her when he stopped there. Hermione studied him, confused. Where was the man that snuck Ginny Weasley Tom Riddle's diary? The Death Eater extraordinaire? He just looked like an old, tired man that had lost his family.

Draco laughed, but it sound dark and broken. "Or you'll what? Threaten me? Beat me? We both know those don't work anymore."

Lucius glanced at the cameras before standing up and walking away. When they were alone- minus the cameras that stayed- Draco started breathing normally. Hermione wondered what his childhood had been like. _Threaten, beat_, she replayed. He'd said the words so cavalier. Like they didn't mean anything because he'd been subjected to them too much for them to have any fear left in them.

She knew she liked silence and her usual strategy for situations like this was to be silent company, but it seemed like Draco had had enough silence for a lifetime. "Do you usually fight like this?"

"No." He said, glaring at the chair his father had left. She wasn't going to push him to say anything else, but thankfully, he went on after a few moments, "Usually he pulls out his wand."

She bit her lip, stopping herself from gasping. He still wasn't looking at her and she didn't know how to help him. Instead, she reached for the book he'd been reading. This time she couldn't hold her gasp in- it came, breaking his trance. He was reading 'The Catcher in the Rye.' She'd mentioned it during their ill-fated dinner, but more than that, it was by a muggle author.

She handed him the book, figuring that was the only thing that would cheer him up. After all, she'd read fairy tales after her break-up. He took it, their fingers brushing. She couldn't look away from him and it felt like she was giving him more than just a paperback book.

"Nasty book, you were right." He said, clearing his throat. "Complains much too much. His life isn't that bad."

She replayed everything she'd ever known about Draco Malfoy. He'd had it drilled into his head since birth to hate everyone that wasn't a pure-blood. His father was a vile person that hexed his own son. He'd been enlisted to kill his headmaster. He had no friends. Holden Caulfield had nothing on Draco Malfoy.

She nodded, looking back at her own book. She wanted to touch him again. Ginny would have a field day if she knew. She couldn't focus on her book anymore. It didn't have the same magnetic effect it once possessed. She found herself rereading the same lines over and over again and not understanding whole passages. There was one person taking up her thoughts, invading her senses.

Draco Malfoy was sitting on the chair next to her. There were several feet separating them, but it felt like he was holding her the way George had earlier that day. This was ridiculous.

Her phone rang, distracting her from everything. It was her mum, she saw, pulling the ruddy thing from her purse. "Hello?"

As the conversation went on, she felt Draco looking at her, but she didn't dare glance at him to confirm her suspicions. What would she do if he was? "No!" She told her mum, nearly passing out at the suggestion. She saw Draco's eyebrows shoot up from the corner of her eye. That eavesdropping little git.

She shook her head in protest, but it was useless since her mum couldn't see. Her voice was high pitched and she felt like the world was spinning too fast. Or maybe it was just the room. She knew she was losing a pointless battle. "I am not taking Draco Malfoy camping with us."

"Why not?" Draco asked from his spot next to her.

She ignored him, sure that he had no idea what camping was. Plus, Draco was too much of a pretty boy to survive a few nights out in the wilderness with no personal space or hot water.

"No!" She shrieked, but realised her mum had already hung up. She groaned, tossing the phone into her bag. She didn't want to go camping in the first place and this wasn't making anything any better.

"Here I was Granger thinking we were mates." Draco said, pretending she had broken his heart. "You cut me deep."

She rolled her eyes, "You don't even know what camping is."

"Sure I do." He proclaimed, but at her dubious look he relented. "Fine, so I don't. Its some muggle thing. What's the big deal? I'd do it for you."

He didn't know what he was saying, she knew. There was no reason for her heart to pound traitorously. And there was no way she was going to let him see her shower in a lake or see her _parents_ stomping around in their giant camping boots or their disgustingly bright hats.

"Uh, no."

He didn't look discouraged. "Why can't I come?"

"Because _I_ don't even want to go." She said, trying to focus on her book.

Draco wasn't letting her off the hook. "Why not?"

She sighed, "Look, you wouldn't last a day in the woods. You wear trousers and silk shirts, your hair is always perfect. You have no idea what it'd be like to shower in a freezing, murky lake. Eat fish from a campfire or sleep on the floor."

"There's this thing called magic, Granger." Draco grinned, like he thought he'd stumped her.

"And that's your problem," She said, "you use magic for everything."

"Wizard." He pointed to himself, like she had forgotten that very important fact. When she didn't smile, he wiped his grin off his face and studied her. She looked troublesome, her eyes set on the closed book in her lap. "What's wrong with using magic all the time?"

"Nothing," She said, confusing him even more.

"Yeah, because that wasn't strange and contradicting." He muttered.

"I can't explain it because I was raised for eleven years thinking magic was just in stories. I set the table, made my bed, walked to school... you were raised with house elves cooking your meals and food appearing on the table. We're just different, and that's not a bad thing." She tried to explain, but wasn't sure how well she was managing it.

"So," Draco looked thoughtful, his eyebrows knit together like he was trying to understand, "if I got up to put my book back and get another one..." He said slowly, "it would make you happy?"

She had to admit, he got it quicker than she thought he would. The 'make you happy' part made her blush and she nodded, not daring to look at him. Why did he keep saying stuff like that? And why did her stomach keep twisting whenever he'd say something or look at her?

She expected him to laugh and say, "That's stupid." It was what he would have done if they were back at school. But he didn't say anything and finally all the quiet was getting to her, so she looked over, hoping he wouldn't be looking at her. He was and when their eyes met she sucked in a breath. It felt like everything else was slipping away and she didn't even remember the cameras in the room.

He leaned forward, like he was going to touch her cheek, but dropped his hand. She looked away, opening her book. Draco did the same and they both attempted to read like nothing had happened. But something had happened and Hermione was practically drafting the letter to Ginny in her head.

Her book may as well have been written in a different language for all she understood of it. She shut it, standing up and grabbing her bag. "I have to go," She declared, wanting to get out of there as fast as she could.

Draco stood up, tossing the book on the chair he'd just vacated. He looked like he wanted to say something, but looked as bashful as she felt. It was probably the first time she'd ever seen him look anything but confident or angry. He rubbed his neck and she felt glued to the spot, looking up at him.

"Okay," He finally uttered. She didn't know what she was expecting him to say. She thought he'd have at least have more to say than Ron when things got a little awkward.

"I know we haven't done a lot of 'pure-blood stuff'," he said, using air quotes, his resuming its usual confidant tone. "That's because our lives are exceptionally boring, but there's this ball thing being thrown by some family in Italy. Mum was thinking we should make a weekend out of it and so some sightseeing. Did you... want to go?"

"I already went to a 'ball thing.'" She said, trying to remain calm. But he was asking her to Italy.

He looked down, his feet apparently more interesting than her. "I know," he dug his toe into the shiny floor, "but this is pretty much all pure-bloods do. And I just thought... well.., it's fine, you don't want to go."

"No!" She said loudly. She flinched, but Draco didn't seem to mind the noise level since he perked up and looked at her. She cleared her throat, "I mean... when is it?"

"Next week."

Camping was the week after. "I can't afford a new dress."

"Wear the one you wore last time. It was stunning." He said eagerly, not missing a beat.

Boys. She rolled her eyes, "I can't wear the same dress again."

"Why not? No one from here is going. They won't know." He looked like he was begging. "Or we'll buy you a new dress."

It was so easy for them to throw their money around. She blushed, shaking her head. "I'll figure it out."

"That's a yes, right?" He smiled and again her heart did that awful thing where it would pound in her chest rapidly. She was certain he could hear it. How could anyone _not _hear it?

She nodded. It felt like he'd just asked her on a date.

"Right," Draco rubbed his hands together, "Now that that's sorted, how about that camping trip?"

"No."

* * *

**A/N: Hi! I hope you liked it! Lots of Draco and Hermione here and lots more to come! :D What do you think? Good? Awful? Do they make you giddy or do you wanna throttle them? ALSO, I HAVE A VERY IMPORTANT QUESTION: Does anyone watch Once Upon a Time? Because Killian Jones aka Captain Hook is so fucking hot. I just can't handle it! That's all.**

**I know. I know. This chapter has set up the greatest plot point of them all: Will Draco Malfoy go camping? No need to thank me. I know. I'm a genius. hehe **

**Thanks to my lovely reviewers: alannalove1990, ILoveSiriusBlack4, Taylor F, feelingcowgirlish (what an interesting name!), jigglyjelly28, edwardsoneandonlylove, Loveable Leo, Guest, asyouwish76, and Reipersecutoria. **


	20. Chapter Twenty

_CHAPTER TWENTY_

'But as you age, you lose other, even more important things, like friends- hopefully only bad friends, who maybe weren't as good for you as you once thought. With luck, you'll be able to hang on to your true friends, the ones who were always there for you... even when you thought they weren't. Because friends like that are more precious than all the tiaras in the world.'  
~Meg Cabot, Forever Princess~

"_What_ do you mean they broke up?" Wilson Betemit asked, staring at a shaking Marty.

"She said she loved him and he didn't say it back. They broke up," Marty said, with more confidence than he felt.

"WHAT ABOUT OUR LOVE TRIANGLE?" Wilson yelled, sounding more like a five year old throwing a tantrum than the Minister of Magic.

"Yes, about that," Jake- one of the editors on the show- piped up next to Marty, "George Weasley has proposed to his girlfriend."

Wilson looked like an angry lion.

"But!" Jake said, trying to salvage the conversation, "Draco Malfoy has just asked Hermione Granger to a weekend in Italy."

"With his parents, no doubt." Wilson growled, falling into his chair.

"No, no!" Marty jumped in, happy remembering the conversation he witnessed. "He told his parents not to arrive until the dinner. He planned this whole trip for them and told Hermione it was his mum's idea. She's no clue."

This seemed to pacify Wilson and he listened to what Jake and Marty had to say.

* * *

_Ginny,_

_No time for pleasantries. Draco asked me to Italy. Okay, maybe I should backtrack. But I can't deal with all that now. DRACO ASKED ME TO ITALY FOR THE WEEKEND! Who does that? Anyway, he said there's some fancy pure-blood ball thing and his family decided to make a weekend trip out of it. And he's inviting me._

_AND he wants to go camping with us. My parents and I haven't been camping in years because it went awful. And camping last year with Ron and Harry while running around hunting Horcruxes had not been enjoyable. I can't fathom going camping with Draco. This is a disaster. _

_Write me soon. I need you. _

_-'Mione_

The response came a few hours later.

_DRACO BLEEDING MALFOY ASKED YOU TO ITALY FOR A ROMANTIC GETAWAY? You're right, no time for pleasantries. I'm amazed you even managed 'Ginny.' Anyway, you said yes, right? Because if you said no I will find a way out of Hogwarts so I can come over and throttle you! Why must all the good stuff happen the summer I'm away?_

_'Mione, I might just hyperventilate. He's so hot. And I know he's probably more than that, but I don't know all those things you do. So I'm just going to be superficial here for a moment. TELL ME MORE! Not only is he a reformed bad boy, but he's- he's- I don't know. You fill in the blank. Funny? Smart? A great cook? Sexy? All of the above? Hermione Granger, you make my life interesting. _

"My girlfriend has a debilitating crush on Draco Malfoy," Harry's familiar voice spoke from behind her. Hermione jumped, finding her best friend standing right behind her.

"What are you doing here?" She shrieked, slapping his arm. She clutched her heart, like that would help stop the frantic beating.

Harry smiled at her, "Sorry. Your mum let me in." he sat down on her bed, petting Crookshanks.

"Why are you here?" She asked, spinning around in her desk chair.

Harry's mouth dropped, "Do I need a reason to see my best friend? This hurts, 'Mione. _Hurts._"

She smiled, tossing a spare pen at him. He caught it easily and she huffed at his blatant athleticism. "Fine." Harry conceded, "Ron hasn't showered in days. So, Draco Malfoy wants to take you to Italy."

"It's rude to read stuff that's not addressed to you," Hermione said, hoping to avoid what he'd said. She spun around in the chair, looking up at the ceiling. Harry wasn't having any of that and he threw the pen back at her. It hit her in the stomach- although 'hit' was much too strong a word. She stopped spinning and said, "Has Ron really not showered?"

"Yes," Harry deadpanned. "He smells like a dead animal. And he keeps eating all my ice cream. It's annoying. Speaking of, do you have any ice cream?"

"Kitchen." She said, spinning back around. Harry jumped up, heading for the kitchen. She laughed, getting out a piece of parchment to compose a response to Ginny.

Harry was back in seconds, the ice cream pint already open with the spoon in his mouth. "Caramel heaven," He sighed, falling onto her bed.

Hermione laughed at him. "Are you having a food-gasm?"

Harry moaned, "Oh, yes. Oh, yessssss."

"Merlin," She grinned, laughing at him. It was nice and easy hanging out with Harry. She should have never doubted they'd not be friends after what happened with Ron. Speaking of Ron- she couldn't help feeling a little chuffed from Ron's misery. Was it wrong she wasn't lying in bed, eating ice cream, and not showering? How come she was a functioning human being, planning a trip to Italy with another man?

She'd supposedly _loved_ him. So why wasn't she a crying mess? Was she missing some sort of emotion?

Harry looked at her. He sighed, "What's wrong? Why are you ruining the afterglow?"

"I'm sorry." She said, looking at his spoonful of ice cream. "I didn't mean to."

"Come on, 'Mione." Harry said, shovelling more ice cream into his deprived being. "What's eating you?" He held up the ice cream pint and grinned brightly.

"Were you trying to make an ice cream pun?" She questioned, holding in a laugh.

"Yeah, it didn't really work." He grinned.

"Nothing. I was just wondering why I'm not more gutted about the break-up. You said Ron's not showering and he wasn't even in love with me. So why am I like this?"

"Like what?" Harry looked at her like she was speaking a different language.

She sighed, "Like _this._ I'm sitting here laughing and planning a trip to Italy with Draco! Isn't this wrong?"

"No." said Harry, his attention deeply focused on the ice cream he was attempting to get out of the pint. "Everyone mourns relationships differently. And maybe you _didn't_ really love Ron in the romantic sense, or whatever." He looked up, having successfully gotten another spoonful out. "Ron is just being himself. He usually doesn't shower anyway, so it's actually not that big a deal. And don't feel bad 'bout Malfoy. Ron will be going out with Jenna in no time."

She thought about what he said. Everyone mourns differently. She remembered reading 'everyone loves differently' in a book, but she didn't know which one. But then she realised the last thing he said. Her head snapped towards Harry who was still immersed in the ice cream.

"Ron will be WHAT?"

Harry looked up at her, his face going pale. He tried to laugh it off, but Hermione felt herself beginning to get hysterical. "Harry, speak."

He shook his head, a garble of sounds coming out that Hermione couldn't make heads or tails of. She glared at him, knowing her silence would be enough to coax it out of him. But before he could feel guilty enough, something clicked in her head. "You and Ginny kept telling me to dump Ron..." She trailed off, her mind putting the pieces together.

_Ron will be going out with Jenna in no time._ Harry and Ginny's newfound love and appreciation for Draco. The puzzle was starting to make a bit more sense. "He never cheated on you!" Harry said quickly, "But he... I mean, he... he kinda liked her a bit more than he should have."

"No..." Hermione whispered. Ron? Emotionally unfaithful? But he... no...

"I'm sorry, 'Mione. I wanted to tell you. But Ginny said if you knew, then you'd dump Ron and be miserable. She said you needed to realise for yourself that you and Ron weren't right for each other." Harry was babbling, slipping over words in his haste to get them out.

She wanted to be angry, but she couldn't gather up the strength to yell. An overwhelming burst of sadness washed over her. George and everyone had accused her of getting too close with Draco, meanwhile no one was feuding with Ron over Jenna. And Ron was the one they should have been watching over. She kept replaying the one time she'd seen them together-minus the day they met at the meeting. Ron had completely forgotten she was there.

_Honey badger._

Harry wordlessly handed her the pint and spoon. She took it, letting the coldness wash over her. The ice cream didn't help and she found herself saying, "Can you put 'Beauty and the Beast' on?"

Harry did so in silence, and moments later she found herself wrapped in his arms as the movie played. She spooned ice cream into her mouth and pressed her face deeper into Harry's chest. He was warm and smelled like soap. Tears streaked down her face, but she didn't sob. She felt numb from the disbelief, the shock, the betrayal.

Why did she waste her first 'I love you' on him? How could her mind have played that trick on her?

She sniffled and then there was a tissue in front of her face. She took Harry's peace offering and blew. It made her feel a bit better, but her body was shaking. Harry held her tighter and he didn't even protest when she finally fell asleep.

When she woke up, it was still dark, but with a hint of the rising sun. Hermione sighed- seeing this was the second time she'd been up this early in a week. She untangled herself from Harry's protective hold and smiled at him as he rolled over in her bed. He was a good friend. She sat at her desk and waved her blinds open with her wand, so that the tiny bit of light there was streamed in.

She wrote to Ginny.

_Harry told me what you two were keeping from me. I want to be mad, but I'm not. I understand what you guys were trying to do. You were right. I needed to see for myself the relationship was over and that it was because of who are and not because of Ron's feelings for Jenna or whatever this heart pounding thing is with Draco. It still hurts, not having him around. But I guess it would hurt more if we had broken up because Ron had feelings for someone else. Instead we broke up because we just weren't compatible and it's good I know that. _

_Harry stayed over last night. I'm sure the Ministry is going to turn it into something it isn't. But it was really nothing. I sorta bawled like a baby after he let it slip. He just held me and then I fell asleep. We all know I'm hopelessly and irrecoverably in love with Draco Malfoy. I'm just kidding. Seriously, I am. Don't take this as some sort of messed up confession. Because it isn't. _

"In love with, Malfoy, eh?"

Hermione shrieked, turning to find Harry behind her. "Stop doing that!" She panted, squeezing her chest. "What is wrong with you?"

He shrugged, hopping up on her windowsill. "Malfoy, eh? Lucky guy. Hope he knows it."

"Merlin, you're just like Ginny." She moaned, "I'm not in love with Malfoy." Harry smiled, like he knew a secret that she didn't. She rolled her eyes, laughing, "Go back to bed, you dolt."

At a more decent hour, the pair of them rolled out of bed and trekked down to the kitchen. Her mum was there, making an omelette, water on the stove already boiling for tea. Harry's eyes sparkled with delight when he saw it and he grabbed a mug from the cabinet to proportion out the amount of sugar and milk he wanted. "Morning, Mum," Hermione smiled, handing Harry the milk carton from the fridge.

"Morning, love. Ah, Harry- I didn't know you stayed over." There was nothing accusatory or chastising in her tone, but Harry blushed nonetheless.

Hermione rolled her eyes at his shyness and turned to her mum, saying, "I kinda fell asleep on him."

Mrs. Granger set the steaming omelette on a plate and handed it to Harry. "In that case," She said with a smile, "thank you for being my daughter's bed for the night. I know how much she kicks in her sleep-"

"Mum!"

"So you deserve the first omelette," She finished, giving a laughing Harry the steaming plate.

"She really does kick," He smiled, "I think I have a bruise."

Hermione glared at the beaten egg she was pouring into the pan and muttered, "I'll give you another one if you don't-"

"Tsk tsk," Harry joked, smiling at her through a mouthful of egg.

"Ew," She shrieked, looking away. "Chew and swallow, Harry. That's gross."

"I was gonna say 'that's what she said,' but that doesn't really apply here." Harry laughed.

Hermione grinned. Her mum came over and took the pan she was using to cook the egg in and put it on her own plate. "That is my cue to leave- you kids have fun." She smiled, walking out of the kitchen with her breakfast and a steaming mug of tea.

"She stole my egg." Hermione laughed, cracking another egg to attempt making breakfast again.

"Think of it this way, you made your mum breakfast." Harry said, almost done with his own omelette.

It was such a mundane morning, so simple and so normal. But it felt good to just relax and spend some time with the people you love. She added ham to the cooking egg and couldn't help herself from thinking about how Draco was spending his morning. Was he sitting down to breakfast with the people that mattered most? Did he even really have people that mattered? Besides his mum, anyway. It was pretty obvious how the pair of them felt. "You have that look on your face." Harry's voice broke through her haze.

"What look?"

"The one you get when you're thinking very hard about someone."

"I don't have a look." She said, feeling a strong surge of heat starting to creep up her neck.

"Yes, you do." Harry said, his face very serious. "Like this," He scrunched up his face into some sort of pained animal expression.

Hermione couldn't contain her laughter and she finally got out, horrified, "Oh my gosh, _tell me_ I don't make that face!"

Harry nodded, his face solemn once again. "You do."

"No!"

"Yup."

She groaned, "Merlin, this is awful."

"So what were you thinking about?" Harry prodded, unaffected by her grief.

"Draco," She muttered, fully aware he would never let her forget this moment. The seriousness on her best friend's face disappeared and he looked startlingly pleased with himself. "No!" She said, "Don't! I'm not daydreaming about his stormy eyes or whatever you want to say."

"I didn't say anything about his," Harry cleared his throat and his voice came out high pitched as he grinned brightly, "_stormy eyes,_" And for added affect he batted his eyelashes.

Hermione rolled her eyes and stuffed a piece of her omelette into her mouth.

* * *

Seeing as her parents were muggle, they didn't understand what an insult the word 'mudblood' was. They were more than happy to have the Malfoys over for the evening again. The Olympics were finally beginning and given how much the event had boggled Draco's mind, it was no surprise they ended up watching the Opening Ceremony together. The Malfoys were also distinctly missing a television.

Harry was spending the evening with the Weasleys- and Jenna, apparently. Hermione's mum was much more relaxed this time, probably because she had gotten on so well with Narcissa. Either way, they had plenty of snacks displayed on the table and a glorious high definition with surround sound tv to watch the spectacle.

Draco wore his usual black ensemble, which was to be expected. Obviously. She had hoped he would dress up, like she had in an obnoxious, flashy Great Britain flag shirt and colourful jean shorts. She even smeared some face paint in blue and red streaks on her cheeks. She was rewarded with a smile, though, once he saw her hilarious get up. Somehow, that was even better than seeing him in colour.

She texted the picture she'd taken of herself to Harry, who sent her his own ridiculous picture. Draco leaned over her shoulder and laughed at the sight of Harry's chest painted with their flag. "Don't you feel left out," She teased.

Draco cleared his throat and said for the second time, "Wizard." He pulled out his wand and pointed it at his cheek. A tiny flag appeared there and Hermione smiled. It was a start. It might have been the closest she'd ever see him in something other than black. They took a picture, foreheads touching and she blushed as they pulled away.

Crookshanks hopped on the couch and squeezed himself in between them. Draco scooted over to make room and then rubbed underneath her cat's mouth. Crookshanks purred loudly and smacked her side with his tail. It was like he was telling her to leave them alone. _Great,_ she thought, _my cat is in love with Draco Malfoy._

Draco smiled at her like he knew how she was feeling. Or maybe there was a storm cloud over her head giving away her thoughts. She hastily looked away and focused on the reporters getting ready to begin the festivities.

Narcissa and her mum were talking, surrounded by picture albums. Narcissa was still in awe of the unmoving photos. Lucius was on Draco's other side, having a very stiff conversation with her dad. Crookshanks, meanwhile, continued to purr and slap her with his tail. _I'm not moving,_ she wanted to tell him.

Draco's hand grazed her thigh, making her finally look at him. It was more of a reflex than her actually deciding to look at him, but her eyes found his eyes staring at her. She thought he would apologise, but he didn't. She realised he did it on purpose since she'd been staring at the telly all this time. His eyes were so grey and so bright that she could have gazed into them all day.

He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Narcissa squeezed into the spot next to Lucius. The four of them- five if you counted Crookshanks- were squished together and Draco's shoulder was touching hers. Crookshanks meowed before jumping away, annoyed at having been squished and then Draco slammed into her side. She groaned, but found herself laughing seconds later and Draco's warmth enveloping her. The sides of their bodies were connected and as the Opening Ceremony finally began, she felt the familiar happiness she had with Harry earlier that day.

* * *

**A/N Hello people! How goes life? Hope all is well and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I know I made Hermione and Harry a little crazy excited over the Olympics. I don't know anyone that paints their face and dresses up, but we can all pretend, right? :D I thought it was cute, considering how much Hermione hyped up the Olympics to Draco. Also, I'm just sitting here waiting for college (hopefully) acceptance letters! I haven't gotten any yet- I also haven't gotten any rejections, so I guess it's a good thing. I wish they would HURRY UP.**

**I need to thank my amazing reviewers! I seriously check my email like 100 times a day. I get really happy when I see one :D Potterheads, Honoria Granger, ILoveSiriusBlack4, LoonyLoonyLuna, Guest, briallyson94, CheshireCat23, edwardsoneandonlylove, fischelsp, shatorupa . ghosh, Loveable Leo, Jazu-chan13, Taylor F, and lovemaya2000.**


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

_CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE_

'I thought of Gatsby's wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy's dock. He had come a long way to this lawn and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that is was already behind him.'  
~F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby~

_Thank Merlin for Mrs. Weasley_, Hermione thought for the billionth time that day. Her turquoise gown was practically unrecognisable as Mrs. Weasley continued to alter it with her magic wand. It had been hard to give up the dress, since she had been so in love with it the way it was, but she couldn't afford a new one and there was no way she was wearing it to another pure-blood affair. Mrs. Weasley had been hesitant to change it, as well, but once she started, she was like a woman possessed.

Hermione lounged on the couch, finishing off her yogurt. She had dropped the dress off that morning and Apparated over during her lunch break to see how the job was going. Instead of turquoise, the dress was now a deep purple.

"How did Draco enjoy his first Olympics? That opening ceremony was breathtaking." Mrs. Weasley said, conversationally as she continued to wave her wand madly. The fabric kept changing, random strings weaving together.

Hermione smiled, "Good. But he got really quiet when they were talking about all the different stories of the people that carried the torch. I think it really moved him, but he just didn't know how to say it."

"That poor boy," Mrs. Weasley murmured.

Hermione nodded, "I'm sure he's glued to his telly, though. Narcissa insisted they buy one straight away after the Opening Ceremony. It's probably the one thing to get him away from the study. He was really enamoured with the concept of archery."

"Archery?" Mrs. Weasley laughed, "Well, yes, that is something. I remember my first Olympics, all those muggle games had me hooked. So strange, those muggles."

Hermione grinned, reaching for the remote. She turned the tv on and flipped through the sports channels, finding a women's football match on. She wondered if Draco was watching it, or he had decided to watch one of the other channels broadcasting different games. On second thought, why was she thinking about Draco so much? This wasn't really something she should be doing.

"My, my, dear," Mrs. Weasley's voice was higher than normal and Hermione snapped her head towards her. Mrs. Weasley looked away from the clock and said, "Don't you need to get back to work?"

Mrs. Weasley looked almost desperate. Hermione looked at her watch and saw she still had fifteen minutes. "Um... not yet. Is everything okay?"

"Of course!" Mrs. Weasley fanned her face with her hand and tried to smile like nothing was wrong. Hermione stared at her worriedly. "But wouldn't you like to go visit George first? Don't you two spend every afternoon together?"

"Isn't George visiting Angelina's parents today?" Hermione asked, remembering their conversation from the other day when George had expressly told her he wouldn't be around all day.

Mrs. Weasley laughed again, throwing her head back in a slightly manic way. Hermione tried to laugh with her, but what ended up coming out was a mangled giggle. Mrs. Weasley stopped laughing and stared intently at the dress, while her eyes kept shooting furtive glances at the clock that kept ticking away. It wasn't their usual clock, the one that told them where members of their family were. Harry had gotten them a real clock for Christmas two years ago and so it hung haphazardly over their fireplace.

Hermione tried to focus on the football game, but her mind was too divided. There was Draco and the dress and Mrs. Weasley's strange behaviour. She wasn't mad about the Ron situation since she had given Hermione a fierce hug and declared her son a fool and a moron and then promptly offered her a selection of treats fresh from her oven that morning. So what was going on?

Minutes later, Mrs. Weasley said again, "Hun, I really think it's time you head back to work."

Hermione could take a hint, she knew when she wasn't wanted. She stood up, turning the telly off and hugged Mrs. Weasley goodbye. The short woman smelled like the baked goods she'd slaved over that morning. She only came up to Hermione's ear, so Hermione stole one last look at her dress. When she picked it up tomorrow its metamorphosis would be complete.

The door opened and suddenly Mrs. Weasley went very tense in her arms. They pulled away as a high pitched giggling filled the room. Hermione turned around, realising a moment too late why Mrs. Weasley had encouraged her early departure. There was her ex-boyfriend in the doorway, looking like he'd swallowed a fly, with peppy, blonde, Jenna Boyle next to him.

"Ronald," Mrs. Weasley looked flustered, "you're early."

Ron didn't seem to have heard his mother- his eyes were locked firmly on Hermione.

Hermione had never really thought about how their first meeting since the break-up would go. She hadn't envisioned this, although if she had thought ahead to this moment she'd probably be just as unprepared as she was now. The first thing Hermione registered was that the giggling had stopped. She looked at Jenna and saw her skirt was way too short to be considered a skirt. It was more like knickers.

The room was deathly silent.

Finally, Ron's vocal chords resumed working and he got out, "Yeah... Jenna wanted us to be early,"

_Jenna wanted us to be early,_ the words pounded in her head, making her feel sick. She felt gutted, actually hurt all over again. Maybe this was how she grieved, seeing what she'd lost right up close and personal. "Are you two together now?" The words came tumbling out before she could think.

"What?" Ron said loudly, "NO!" He looked like that was the stupidest thing she could have said at the moment.

In a matter of weeks, Jenna Boyle could get Ronald Weasley to be early, which was something Hermione Granger had spent years trying to accomplish (unsuccessfully). It was all Hermione could think, no matter what Ron said. Although, his volume and the complete shock in his voice made her think he was telling the truth. As she hadn't said anything, Ron marched on, completely forgetting there were other people in the room, "How could I be with her when I'm in love with you?"

She sucked in a breath as his words rattled around the room. As if his voice hadn't been loud enough as he shouted it at her, it was like they ricocheted over every object in the overcrowded room. _Well,_ Hermione thought wryly, _this was not how I imagined my first 'I love you.'_ She needed to use sarcasm or else she was afraid she'd have a mental breakdown.

"Excuse me?" She asked, glaring at Ron.

Ron, for his part, seemed completely and thoroughly bashful at his admission. He looked down at his shoes like they were more interesting.

"Why don't we go into the kitchen, Jenna?" Mrs. Weasley said, her voice completely devoid of the nervous hysterical tone it had had earlier. Hermione chanced a look over at her and saw she was trying to contain her excitement. A feeling of dread pooled in her stomach- it was like Mrs. Weasley was expecting them to get back together. Were they getting back together? Ron was declaring his love for her and it was obvious she missed him the way her heart was pounding and she felt like she was going to be sick. But... _what about Draco_, a deep, tiny part of her brain shrieked.

Unfortunately, that part of her brain was very loud.

Jenna didn't look very much like she wanted to leave Ron alone with Hermione. It was written all over her face: she liked Ron. And leaving him with the girl he had just proclaimed- more like shouted- his love to wasn't the ideal situation for her. Because unrequited love sucked, Hermione knew. She had felt that way for years, pinning after Ron and now a part of her feared she was about to fall into the same cycle with Draco Malfoy.

Jenna looked at Ron, like he was going to turn to her and say, "No, stay." If what Harry and Ginny had said was true, then he did have some feelings for Jenna and was probably messing with her head. But Ron didn't do any such thing and Jenna reluctantly left the room with Mrs. Weasley.

Ron never looked up at her and she realised she'd have to be the one to say something. If Draco had said he loved her, he wouldn't have looked away from her at all, she knew. His eyes would have bore into her, straight through her, probably. No. No. She was not comparing them.

But what was she supposed to say?

"You love me?" She questioned, unsure how she was supposed to react. Was he expecting her to go running to into his arms and kiss and make-up like nothing had happened? "When did you figure this out?" She felt like being a bitch and popped her hip, setting her hands on them. A week had gone by and he'd come to this revelation and not said anything to her? If he loved her, he wasn't even going to fight for her?

Ron didn't move a muscle and it irritated to her to no end. "Well?" She promoted, her tone short and clipped. It seemed like all his earlier confidence at yelling his love had evaporated and he had reverted back into the usual, tall, gangly, awkward boy she knew.

Ron glanced up at her. She raised her eyebrows waiting to hear what he had to say.

"As soon as you walked away."

"What?" She was so angry she hadn't even remembered what she asked him.

Ron sighed, like he really didn't want to repeat himself. "I knew I loved you the moment you walked away."

She sucked in a breath, wondering what it all meant. "But you let me leave!" She yelled, completely forgetting to be considerate of the people in the house.

"I-" Ron stopped and Hermione started to pace. How could be saying that? She wanted to slap him or punch the wall. She had chugged along for a week telling herself she was fine and missed Ron as a friend. She was chuffed about her upcoming trip with Draco. It had hurt to hear Ron had feelings for Jenna and that had brought the whole Ron dilemma to the forefront of her mind, but she had never considered going back to him. And now there he was, telling her loved her.

"I've always loved you," He finally said, "My whole life. I was just too daft to realise it until you were walking away. And I let you go because I thought that... I thought that was what you wanted."

Hermione shook her head, "I saw you with Jenna."

Ron looked like she'd punched him the gut. "What?"

"I saw you with Jenna," She said again, knowing what Harry had witnessed in Ron was true. "You're being daft now by saying you're in love with me. You aren't. You're afraid of moving forward since you and me have been together for eight years, so you're trying to fool yourself into loving me. But you don't."

"What?" Ron protested weakly, "Hermione, I love y-"

She shook her head, "Don't lose Jenna, Ron. Don't be afraid. She likes you, it's clear on her face. But Ron... I don't want to lose you. You're so important to me... it might be hard right now, but I want to be friends. Harry's doing a great job of splitting time between us, but it isn't the same and you know it."

She wasn't sure how Ron was going to react to all of that. She hoped he'd understand. It hadn't been easy for her, but she knew it was right. If they both tried to fold themselves up into the overhanging box that had become their relationship, they'd never be happy. They had to do what was right for them and not what everyone was expecting. She and Ron weren't right together, no matter how much Mrs. Weasley hoped or what Ron wanted in this pivotal moment of transition and moving forward.

Finally, Ron nodded and Hermione smiled.

"You were always too smart for me anyway, 'Mione." Ron grinned.

_'Mione_, her heart soared. They'd be okay. She'd been right all along. Ron and her would always find their way back to each other, because they were meant to be together. As friends.

* * *

She was late to work, but it didn't matter. The Golden Trio was back- at least, that's what the Daily Prophet had called them a few times. It was good to be a threesome again, it felt right. They had always been together because they were meant to all be best friends. That would never change.

She folded herself into a corner of the shop and texted Harry: _Patched things up with Ron :)_

When it was finally time to go home for the evening, a force knocked her backwards into the side of the shop. "'Mione!" The giant wall said, as Hermione tried to regain her wits, "You have to help me!"

"George?" She asked, trying to shove the building high Weasley off her. George let go and she removed herself from the side of the shop she had been squashed against. Her back hurt. "What is going on?"

"Angelina is a bridezilla! She's crazy!" George said, sounding like a hysterical madman.

Hermione grinned, "Haven't you been engaged for like... a day?"

"I'm serious, 'Mione." George went on, the most serious she had seen him since the day they buried his twin brother, "This is no laughing matter and I usually think everything is a laughing matter."

"What am I supposed to do?" Hermione asked, beginning to walk away from the shop.

"Make her uncrazy!" George said, flailing his arms in the air like that would make her more sympathetic to his cause.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Just talk to her. Calm her down. Angelina never seemed like the type to care what people thin-"

"That's what I thought!" George cut in, "Here I was thinking I got lucky, nailing a cool chick, whose gorgeous, and smart, and down to earth. Not to mention she loves Quidditch. But I was wrong, 'Mione! She's off her rocker, mental, bonkers!"

Hermione smiled to herself at his hysteria and said, "Did you pick a date?"

"Angie said something about spring. 'Mione, that's practically a whole bleeding year away!"

"George, you need to just talk to her and help her plan everything. I can only imagine how much stuff goes into planning a wedding. There's flowers, music, rings, vows, food, place cards, a venue, save the dates, invitations, party favours, reception, photos- just so much stuff that needs to be planned."

One glance at George told her he wasn't listening anymore. She rolled her eyes, typical bloke. No wonder Angelina was already crazy. She was probably terrified he'd show up with a stink bomb or some new experiment that would send a million tiny frogs croaking every time someone blinked (knowing George, he'd be able to create that).

"Just be there for her, okay?" Hermione said, nudging his side.

"Can't you just make her normal again?" George pouted, like a sad puppy.

"Nope." She grinned, enjoying his pain a tad more than she should have.

"You're doing this on purpose. You're on her side." George accused, his eyes growing wide.

She huffed, "I can't abandon my gender in their time of need,"

"I'm your friend!" George cried.

She laughed, "Remember elementary school when if you were a girl you could only be friends with girls and same for boys?"

"No," George deadpanned, not looking amused at all.

"Oh," Hermione said, "Probably just a muggle thing then. Well, you have cooties."

"Cooties?" George asked, the word foreign to him.

She smiled, "Yup. And so, I must side with Angie and tell you that you're being an insensitive bloke."

George sighed, "I don't know why I thought I could count on you."

"Because I'm awesome," She joked, bumping her hip into his. "And you love me."

George chuckled, but didn't dispute the fact. "A little bird told me you're going to Italy."

Hermione felt her heart pound a bit faster than usual. Her eyes narrowed as she pictured the culprit with all her fiery hair and matching personality in her mind. "Ginny."

"Ah ha. So it is true. At least Malfoy knew enough about you to know you'd wanna do some sightseeing. None of us need another Paris Debacle." George elbowed her side, "But if that bastard git so much as looks at you the wrong way, I will-"

"Nothing is going on with us. It's for the show, we're supposed to do pure-blood stuff, remember? And the Malfoys like going to fancy dinners and indulging in all of life's luxuries. Also, it was The Paris _Incident._" She grinned, pulling a posh accent. "Plus," She added, remembering something, "Narcissa is the one who decided to make it a weekend trip. She and Lucius are coming with us."

"Of course. Figures Draco isn't that smart. Didn't his potion always explode? And he was a shite seeker. Only made the team because his daddy bought him the spot." George said, his voice not as carefree as it usually was.

Hermione glanced over at him and muttered something inaudible.

George glanced at her, his eyes wide. "Merlin, you like him and you don't even know it."

"What? No, I don't! Can everyone stop saying that?"

"I'm getting married, 'Mione. I know a bit about love. That thing you just did, trying to defend him nonchalantly? I invented that. Angie used to take a lot of rubbish about her Quidditch playing from a bunch of annoying girls at Hogwarts that thought Quidditch was for blokes."

"Really?" Hermione asked, "I didn't know she was bullied."

"Yeah, all the time. That was before you guys showed up. Either way, it eventually stopped, but I used to just mutter about how cool she was and sports were for everyone. The best part is, you don't even know it. And neither did I. Not even when Fred was going out with her. Never knew a thing. Angie just snuck up on me, she did. And I wouldn't have it any other way." George had a dreamy look on his face, he probably could have flown away if he tried.

Hermione rubbed her arms and attempted to play it off, "I know everything."

George glanced at her and shrugged, a coy smile on his face, similar to the one Harry had worn while she wrote her letter to Ginny. And they both had that same smile because they were two men in love.

* * *

**A/N Hi everyone :D I hope you like this chapter, some character developments here. Next chapter: Italy, Hermione and Draco in a hotel, a certain person sans a shirt, Doctor Who- opps. I just checked the document. That's all chapter 23. 22 is: another certain person in scantily clad pjs, coffee, airports... ANYWAY! I should have deleted the 23 bits, but I don't feel like it after I typed all that. **

**Thank you to: Taylor F, edwardsoneandonlylove, Potterheads, Loveable Leo, Kleptokitten, CheshireCat23, Blah. Blah. Blah. Monster, and desertblossom. **


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two

_CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO_

'I love you as certain dark things are loved, secretly, between the shadow and the soul.'  
~Pablo Neruda as quoted by Stephanie Perkins, Anna and the French Kiss~

It was dark when the doorbell rang.

Hermione groaned, rolling over in bed. Her room was pitch black, with the exception of the street lights that cast an eery glow in her room. She found the clock, which told her it was four thirty. There were footsteps outside in the hall, she guessed her dad's, by the sound of his slippers. She pushed her face into the pillow, hoping to magically fall back into the dream she had been ripped out of.

It almost felt possible, until her door opened. Someone had turned the light in the hall on and it streamed into the room. She kept her eyes shut tight, not ready to welcome the light. She groaned and tugged the covers up more. What did her dad need at this time? And who had been at the door?

She heard her name in the dark, but in her half awake state it didn't register. She groaned again and turned over, away from the light. "Granger," It said again, this time one side of the bed sinking in. Someone had sat down in the middle. The voice didn't sound like her dad, although it was for sure masculine. It sounded familiar, but she couldn't place it. A soft hand touched her shoulder and again, "Granger."

She sighed, realising whoever it was not going away. Everything was probably being filmed anyway, so if she just got this encounter over with, she could go back to bed that much sooner. She cracked open an eye and shrieked, pulling away so fast she nearly fell off the bed. Draco Malfoy leaned forward with lightening fast reflexes to catch her shoulders before she went toppling off the bed. Hermione shoved him off, wiping the sleep and oil from her face. _WHAT_ was he doing there? In her room? At four in the morning?

Her heart was pounding, reminiscent of the way it had when Harry kept reading over her shoulder. Once her eyes adjusted, she was able to see Draco clearer. His hair hung down in his eyes, but other than that he was dressed in all black, just as formal as ever. There should be a law against looking that put together in the morning, Hermione thought.

A grin settled across his face as he said, "Morning, Granger. Sleep well?"

"Wha-" She sputtered, her brain beginning to function properly as she woke up, "What are you doing here?"

He wasn't paying attention to the words coming out of her mouth, she realised. His attention had been taken away by her pyjamas. She glanced down, seeing the skimpy camisole she was wearing. The covers had fallen down to her lap when she sat up and she hastily tried to cover as much cleavage as possible. Draco looked up at her said, "Nice pyjamas."

He could have said nice jugs, so she was grateful. Instead of saying so, she glared and reiterated her question. While she waited for him, she grabbed the remote for the air conditioner in the room and shut it off. Doing so meant leaning over to the bedside table and her camisole slid up, revealing some of her lower back. She hastily pulled back, getting a nose full of Draco's cologne. It wasn't overpowering like so many men's cologne- it was nice. Pleasant, even. She pulled her shirt down again and tried not to flush as Draco was once again distracted.

He looked her in the eyes and said, like she should have known the answer, "We're going to Italy."

"Yes." She deadpanned, pointing at her packed bag in the corner. "I know that. I was supposed to meet you at the Manor at ten so we could Apparate." This was getting annoying and she knew her tone reflected how she felt. She also felt her eyes widen in an angry way as she finished.

Draco seemed unaffected by this and said, "Change of plans."

"_What_ change of plans?" She growled. It was too early in the morning for this.

Draco looked more and more amused as this little conversation went on. "We're taking a plane. Heathrow to Rome." For a moment his confidence disappeared and he asked, "That is how muggles do it, right?"

"What did you just say?" Hermione asked, completely caught off-guard.

"It's a two hour flight," Draco went on, regaining his confidence in moments.

"How much was the ticket?" She asked, "What do I owe you?" There was no way he was paying for a plane ticket for her. She couldn't afford a new dress, but she'd find a way to pay him back.

"What? No." Draco shook his head. "It's on the Ministry. Now, there's a cab waiting downstairs. Up you get," He reached over and took her hands in his. Normally she would have stopped him from pulling her out of bed, but she moved like a robot under his guidance, too shocked to react.

Draco had planned their trip to Italy the muggle way? And the Ministry was putting up the cost? Right, the show. But wait since when did he-

"Geez, Granger. Give a bloke some warning." His voice brought her back to the present. She had no idea what he was talking about, so she glanced over at him, to find him staring at her equally skimpy shorts.

It was _summer._ What did he expect her to be wearing?

Instead of blushing, she glared at him, recovering her composure. "No one told you to show up at my house at four in the morning. If you had told me the actual plan-" It was no use, she saw, since he was still obviously checking her out. Her heart thundered dangerously and she noticed they were still holding hands.

She pulled away and started shoving him towards the door. "Granger- what are you doing? We need to get to the air base-"

"Airport!" She shrieked, pushing him through her doorway. She reached over, grabbing her duffel bag and threw it at him. He caught it, but not before it smacked him the gut. He grunted and she smiled at his pain. The door slammed shut and she spun around, looking at her dark room now that the hallway light had been cut off.

"You are getting ready, yeah?" Draco called through the door.

She bit back a laugh and ended up snorting. "Go away!" She called, grabbing clothes from her drawers before ducking in for a shower.

She never thought she'd ever be this happy _this_ early in the morning. Draco Malfoy was taking her to Italy on a plane! He was flying the muggle way. And he had planned this trip. Wait- were his parents waiting down in the cab? She scrubbed the sleep away and pulled on clothes for travel.

Since her bag had been packed the night before and she threw it at Draco, all she needed was her purse. She went over to her parent's room and told them about the shift in her plans for Italy, but they didn't seem to mind. Crookshanks' food bowl was empty and she went to add some more dry food to hold him off until his actual breakfast. He usually came running when he heard food, but nothing happened. She had a bad feeling she knew where he was.

Sure enough, there her cat was on Draco's lap. She huffed and stalked passed them, grabbing her bag Draco had deposited at the end of the couch. "Get a room," She muttered.

What she didn't see was Draco's hand shoot out to grab the bag and his strength made her stagger backwards as the bag didn't budge. She shot him a questioningly glance, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he gently nudged the cat off him and stood up, taking her bag with him. She laughed, seeing his trousers covered in orange fur all around his nether region. Draco grinned and before he could use the appropriate spell, Hermione had already done it for him. "Pity," she joked, "it was a good look for you."

Draco chuckled, and tugged the bag out of her grip and gestured for the door. She smiled and then looked over at her cat, who seemed miffed that she was leaving and taking Draco with her. She rolled her eyes and led Draco to the door.

She was expecting to see Lucius and Narcissa in the car, but it was empty, except for the driver, who met them at the back to put her bag in the trunk. One of the cameramen joined the driver up front. Draco let her slide in first and once they were both in, the car took off without asking either of them for a point of destination, which meant he already knew.

"So where are your parents?" Hermione asked, "Wasn't this whole trip Narcissa's idea?"

"Dad was feeling under the weather," Draco said smoothly, looking out the window as they drove through the darkened city. "So they're gonna Apparate for the dinner tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow night?" She asked, feeling her stomach churn. "So it'll be you and me? Alone? Overnight?"

Draco glanced over at her and she mentally slapped herself for the 'overnight' bit. She probably sounded like the biggest prude. He quirked an eyebrow at her and said, "Everything okay?"

She nodded, "Yeah. Psh, everything's fine. But just to clarify, we'll be alone."

"In Rome," Draco added, "We'll Apparate to Tuscany tomorrow night. That's where the Scozzolis live."

"Right," She took a deep breath. Ginny had spent all week telling her it was a 'romantic getaway' and she had insisted his parents would be there. And now they were all alone speeding towards Heathrow, just the pair of them. But it still wasn't a romantic getaway, right? He didn't like her that way. Sometimes she wondered if they were even actually friends.

"Ron told me he loved me," She blurted out. She bit her lip, hearing him suck in a breath. She didn't know why she said it- maybe it was because a part of her _wanted_ this to be a romantic getaway and she was trying to gauge if he liked her the way she was beginning to fear she liked him.

Draco turned to face her, his face a perfect mask. His voice was tightly controlled, the only indicator that he was trying to stay calm. "Oh?"

She played with her fingers, staring at the seat cushion between them. Glancing up, she saw he was still looking at her and she forced herself to nod. "The other day. At the Burrow."

"So are you... back..." His face contorted up in a pained sort of way and he finally said, "together?"

She shook her head and watched him carefully. It was like he was an experiment she was studying under a microscope. He let out a deep breath and his lips twitched like he was holding back a smile. These seemed like positive signs. "Why not?" His voice wavered a bit, like he was trying to contain his excitement.

_Because I'm mad about you. _Merlin, she realised, her face probably betraying her, it was true. Luckily, he didn't seem to have guessed what she was thinking, but he did notice the change in her. He looked at her curiously and she faked a smile. "We're better off as friends."

Draco looked away and she suspected he was smiling, although she couldn't see. They sat in silence the whole way to the airport and Hermione tried to work out how she was feeling and what she was going to do about it. Because even if she really did like Draco, was it possible he liked her? They had a history and not a very good one. He _hated_ her merely because she existed. He seemed to have changed his world views now, but could he erase the past? And could she look passed everything he had done?

Hermione took charge once they arrived at Heathrow. It was clear to her Draco had never been to a Muggle airport and a thought occurred to her as the cabbie unloaded their bags. She turned to Draco, "You don't have a passport."

In response, he pulled out a tiny maroon coloured book and flashed her a smile. "How did you get that?" She asked, as they walked inside. "And don't you dare say 'wizard!'"

He chuckled, "But this actually does have to do with magic."

She eyed him warily as they joined the line to check in for their flight. "Go on."

"The Ministry made one and they put a little masking spell on it so muggles won't question it." Draco grinned, "And it only cost a little bribe."

"That is horrible." Hermione rolled her eyes. "And that's why we can never fix anything in the way this government is run."

"There will always be people willing to do stuff for money. Have been ever since the day money was invented. If we all just kept trading silk for rice, then we'd all be okay." said Draco.

"It's just paper. It's not even backed by gold and silver. There is no money anywhere in the world backed by gold and silver. All this drama for paper." Hermione shook her head. They were nearly at the front of the line, so she turned to Draco asked for their ticket confirmation.

He riffled around in his bag and retrieved a folded up page. There was a brown stain in the corner and she glanced at Draco with a raised eyebrow. Draco rolled his eyes and explained, "_Puffy_ spilled coffee on it."

"Why were you drinking coffee?"

"I needed something stronger than tea. Bleeding muggle computers are the devil incarnate." He said, not looking happy as the memory of securing their tickets flashed across his mind.

She smiled, feeling a small bit of satisfaction. The Malfoys and plenty of other pure-blood families had considered themselves so much better than muggles for years. They looked down on them because they didn't have magic. But muggles had electronics and they were a different kind of magic that took time to learn.

"Ruddy house elf knew exactly what to do." He muttered, presumably a little bitter.

"You mean I have Puffy to thank for getting me a seat?" Hermione grinned. "I hope you thanked her."

"Sure, Mum," He rolled his eyes. "I also punished her for spilling coffee all over the irreplaceable, oriental rug."

She didn't have the chance to respond since it was their turn at the check-in counter. She handed the woman in a blue uniform their passports and ids along with the folded up email confirmation. After getting them window seats, they put their bags on the weighing scale. Hermione half expected Draco's bag to be overweight, chopped full of all his pure-blood luxuries, but it went through without a problem and then they were off towards security.

"You're gonna have to take of your shoes," She instructed, "and anything metal. Like your belt."

"If you wanted to get me naked, Granger, all you had to do was ask." Draco quipped, sending a naughty smile her way.

She rolled her eyes and said, "They're going to take a picture of you naked."

For a second Draco lost his calm composure. "What?"

She smirked, having the upper hand. "Unless you want to have a pat down by a chubby bloke. The choice is yours."

"Seeing as I've already taken a naked picture..." He trailed off, grinning wickedly at her. Hermione rolled her eyes, trying to maintain an air of nonchalance, but on the inside she was burning. All she wanted to do was reach out and take his hand. He was trying to rile her up, she doubted he'd actually taken a naked picture of himself. But she wasn't going to feign interest.

"I know what you mean. This should be easy peesy."

His mouth dropped, making her want to do a victory dance. He smiled brightly at her and shook his head, more to himself. And then he reached out, his arm going around her shoulders as he tugged her against his side. She sucked in a breath as her body tingled and she fell against him. There was no awkward sharp bone in his side that plunged into her, like when she was with Ron. This felt right.

He didn't let go and she didn't pull away. It almost felt like they were a couple.

They moved through the line together and soon enough they were pulling off their shoes and Hermione was secretly telling Draco what to do. They cleared security fine and Draco was determined to find their gate.

"It's B15," Hermione said, trying to hold in a smile.

"I heard you the first time, Granger," Draco said, a few feet ahead of her, looking around at all the signs.

She shook her head, silently proud at his determination to function in the muggle world. She glanced behind them, where the camera crew was trailing. They also had fancy Ministry passports. Draco turned right and she followed, finding him stopped and waiting for her. "I'm right, right?"

She rolled her eyes, "Yippee, you found the gate. You're just as smart as every other muggle."

"Sarcasm is a last resort for the emotionally barren," Draco chided.

She snorted, "Me? Emotionally barren? What more you?"

"You've no idea," He said, reaching out to wrap his arm around her shoulders again. They walked over to one of the many small shops by their gate to buy tea, before sitting down by the window to watch the planes take off.

"Are you nervous?" She asked, noticing the way he kept biting his lip and staring intently at the giant airplanes. "Is this the first time you've seen a plane?"

Draco nodded, distracted as a jet rocketed passed them on the runway. "It's different from a broom, that's for sure."

"You'll be fine." She said, but when he didn't seem convinced, she added cheekily, "I'll protect you."

Draco laughed and finally tore his gaze away from the planes and settled it on her. He eyed her appraisingly before saying, "I've no doubt about that."

* * *

**A/N Are you excited? Come on, those two are so cute, aren't they? :D I hope you're enjoying and you're excited and all that jazz. And there's the holidays coming up. I love Christmas. All my presents for everyone are wrapped up _and_ I got my first college acceptance letter last week. Anyway, thanks for reading and all reviews are appreciated. AND I JUST GOT THE ULTIMATE EDITION OF HP7 AND 7.2. :D**

**Thanks to: alannalove1990, Taylor F, CheshireCat23, edwardsoneandonlylove, Jazu-chan13, Honoria Granger, HarryPotterGeneration, Kleptokitten, and Loveable Leo.**


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three

_CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE_

'You want to talk? Fine. Talk. Tell me something you've never told anybody else.'  
I thought for a moment. 'Turtles have the second-largest brains of any animal on the planet.'  
It took Isabel only a second to process this. 'No, they don't.'  
'I know, that's why I've never told anybody that before.'  
~Maggie Stiefvater, Linger~

She wasn't sure how, but they made it to their hotel in one piece. If she had taken this trip with Ron, she knew she would have been the leader of the two, and not just because she understood muggle transportation. Draco didn't let his lack of knowledge- of muggles or the language- stop him. They worked together, Hermione filling him in when she had to, but he picked everything up quickly and they were in a cab for the second time that day in no time, their bags thankfully not lost.

Their hotel was on Via del Corso and the taxi dropped them right across the street from it. On the way in they drove through Piazza Venezia and got a glimpse of the Colosseum. It was all beginning to feel very real for Hermione. All the places she had dreamed of seeing were right there, waiting for her. She practically flew out of the car and pulled Draco behind her.

Their room, she realised a bit too late, was tiny. There was hardly any room to walk around and the "two beds" were more accurately two beds pushed together with separate blankets. There were clear shower doors, making everything that much more close. The pair of them hovered in the doorway, looking around before Hermione turned to Draco. "_How_ would this room have housed the four of us?"

"Huh?" Draco glanced down at her, his usual collectedness gone.

"You, me, and your parents. The _four_ of us where supposed to come here and the front desk said there was one room on hold. How would this room have kept the four of us?" Her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms, her chest puffed out like an alpha ape.

Draco stammered and she went on, "_And_ there were no empty seats next to us like there should have been if your parents just _decided_ not to come. So what was this whole thing? Is there even a dinner tomorrow?"

"YES!" Draco huffed, outraged. He pushed passed her, walking into the room. He dropped his bag on the floor and turned to look at her as she stomped in after him. "Why do you have to be so bloody smart?"

"Excuse me?"

"Anyone else wouldn't have put it together-"

She rolled her eyes and snorted. "I doubt that. What is going on? Why did you lie- was Ginny right?"

"What? The Weasely girl? What's she got to do with any of this?" Draco asked, perplexed. Hermione shook her head and stared him down, waiting for the answer. He sighed and admitted, "My parents were never coming with us." Her mouth opened and he hastily added, "Until tomorrow night! There really is a dinner. But this trip... I planned this trip for you."

She was more mad than she probably should have been. After all, he'd taken her to Italy. "Yeah, and?" She asked, her voice hard.

"And what?"

_"Why are we here? _If you just wanted to take me to Italy, why couldn't you just say, 'Hey, there's this dinner in Italy. Would you maybe want to make a trip out of it and go to Rome first?'"

"I do not sound like that." He said, miffed.

"DRACO!"

"Okay! I did say that!"

She pinched her nose together in an effort not to go insane. Not that she was doing a very good job. When she felt like she could speak without screaming, she said, "Why didn't you just ask if I'd go to Italy, with you? Alone?"

He sucked in a breath and then looked away from her. "Would you have said yes?"

"Maybe. But why did you want to do this with me, anyway?" She gulped, wondering if it was the answer she was thinking- maybe hoping- it was. She took a step closer, willing him to look at her.

"Does it really need saying?" His voice was so soft, and he turned to look at her.

She gasped. She'd heard that line before. She heard it once- heartbreaking. Uttered during a farewell between a woman and alien that loved each other. "You watched _Doctor Who_!" She clasped her hands to her mouth and stared at him with wide eyes.

Draco's cheeks tinged pink and he half shouted, "No!"

"Yes!" She nodded frantically, "Yes, you did! Oh my God. Merlin!"

"God and Merlin? I'm sure they're busy, Granger." Draco said, awkwardly rubbing his neck as Hermione stared at him like he was a present from Santa.

She pointed at him and said, "You watched _Doctor Who_!"

"I would never lower myself to that rubbish, muggle show!" He shot back, losing a useless battle.

She nodded, doing a happy dance, her arms victorious in the air, "How much did you see?"

"All six bloody seasons." He muttered, eyes downcast. He was knocked backwards as Hermione launched herself at him. He laughed, catching her easily with his arms going around her smoothly.

"There's way more than six seasons," She grinned, her breath warm on his neck.

Draco's body shook with his laughter and he gently set her down. "I'm sorry I lied."

She bit her lip as she looked up at him. "I like you, too, Draco."

He sucked in a breath and Hermione held hers. She had said it and she felt good about it. She felt lighter. Was this how she was supposed to feel when she told Ron she loved him? She didn't know what would happen between them and if she was ready for it, but Draco had gone through all this to get her to Italy _and_ he watched _Doctor Who_, not matter how much shite he gave it.

And then he reach over and took her hand. He cleared his throat, but his voice still came out a pitch too high when he said, "Rome's waiting."

Rome didn't provide any relief in the heat department. It was sweltering, the sun relentless. Hermione had her hair pulled back and a bottle of water in her hand. Draco kept muttering a spell to keep their water ice cold and bought her a sun hat.

"Have you seen the size of that thing?" She asked, stepping away from him as he tried to put the hat on her.

"Granger, your face is red." Draco grinned, seemingly amused by her attempts to thwart the hat.

"I don't care. I'm not putting that on." She squealed and jumped as he dived for her. Since she was much smaller, she was able to evade his attempt and prepare for the next attack. "I'm serious," She tried again, staring at his grin. "I will not- NO!" She jumped, but Draco had a different tactic in mind this time. His arms went around her tiny waist and pulled her against him. Her back was pressed against his front. It was easy to keep her pinned against him with one arm and put the hat on her head with the other.

"There," He smiled, pulling away and turning her around. "Perfect."

Hermione glared as the floppy green hat sat atop her head. She reached up, fully intending to pull it off, when she paused and felt the tiny bit of relief it provided. Her glare hardened at Draco's victorious look and she stomped away from him, taking a picture of the Spanish Steps that were just ahead of them.

Draco caught up to her easily and slipped his hand in hers. "Are you going to be mad all day?"

She decided to ignore the way her stomach flip flopped and resisted the urge to look at him. She knew his hair was a mess from the sweat and how much he'd ran his hands through them- such a stark contrast from the fancy dinner they went to last time. He hadn't looked like the heat affected him at all. Now she realised it was because he was working very hard to maintain an image. Here, he had abandoned his black dress shirt and rolled up his trousers to his knees. His face was red and sweat was pouring from him. He was normal.

She'd actually been resisting the urge to look at him all day- from the moment he tossed his shirt away. Because Draco Malfoy had a beautiful chest; muscled in _all_ the right places.

It almost felt like he was her boyfriend.

"I'm not mad," She said, meaning it. How could she be mad when Draco Malfoy was holding her hand, shirtless, in _Italy_. These things were never supposed to happen to her.

Her phone buzzed and she pulled it out, finding Harry responding to her earlier SOS. _You're in Italy alone with Malfoy? I can be there in five seconds. Where are you? Trevi Fountain? One of the million piazzas? _

She smiled and pulled her hand away from Draco to text back. "Oi," Draco complained, "No muggle stuff stealing your attention." He reached for her phone and she swatted his hand away, smiling. "What's Potter doing offering to come rescue you?"

"Stop reading over my shoulder! Harry does the same thing!" Hermione said, giving his shoulder a nudge with hers.

"Yuck," He stuck his tongue out, "you mean Potter and I have stuff in common?"

_I think I'll be okay. I'll call if I need you. Do me a favour and don't mention this to Ginny yet. She'll go insane._

The response was instant: _Too late._

Hermione rolled her eyes and slipped her phone back into her pocket. "Figures. He tells her everything."

After the Spanish Steps they went for gelato. Hermione mixed flavours while Draco went for chocolate and then they continued their walk through the city, heading for Piazza Navona. The floppy hat was doing wonders to keep her cool, but she wasn't about to tell Draco that.

In the evening, they went for dinner at one of the many outdoor cafes. Thankfully it cooled down once the sun disappeared and they sipped their mineral water while they waited for the spaghetti.

"What was your favourite part?" Hermione asked, bouncing in her seat. Her legs were completely drained from all the walking they did and the running through traffic. The cobblestones also weren't the smoothest top to walk on.

Draco thought for a moment before saying, "Trevi. You?" Her mouth dropped and he grinned, nearly choking on his water. He put down the glass and asked, "What?"

"That was my favourite part! Change yours!"

He smiled and stumbled over his words before saying, "You change yours!"

She shook her head, "I'm the lady."

He snorted and she threw her napkin at him. He caught it easily, but didn't give it back. It was nice, sitting with Draco. They had spent so much time sitting together, but not talking, just kind of being around each other. Neither of them had books this time to retreat into. They either had a conversation or sat in silence.

She didn't know where they stood- friends, something more... it had felt for most of the day that they were a bit more than just friends...

But she wasn't ready to break this easiness by asking. Draco hadn't seemed too keen on saying, anyway, if this morning had been anything to go by. But he had held her hand and wrapped his arm around her, even paid for ice cream, lunch, and her floppy hat. The hat had also been his idea and he'd picked it out without her.

Which was why it was green, obviously.

_"You really do look beautiful tonight. I really mean it. And you look beautiful all the time, no matter what I've ever said."_ The memory came flooding back to her, and she hastily shoved it aside as their food arrived.

They ate in silence for a few moments, only speaking to gush about how amazing their pasta was. After some more quiet she asked, "Do you want a taste?" She had grown up swapping dishes with her parents, and she had ordered tomato sauce while he had opted for pesto.

Draco nodded, "Sure."

She twirled some pasta and put her fork forward, intending to drop them on his own plate, but his hand shot out, holding her wrist and tilting it upwards. He leaned in and in moments had eaten the spaghetti straight off the fork. She tried to make her shock less evident- and the strange sensation that was pulsing through her body. She dumbly let her fork clatter onto the table as Draco held his own fork out, the green pesto covered pasta staring at her.

She leaned in, copying his moves from before, and a multitude of flavours erupted in her mouth. There was the olive oil and basil and garlic and it was all so _amazing._ She said as much and he nodded, happily chomping down on more.

That seemed to have broken the ice that had magically flowered around them, and Draco asked her about her opinion on Faraway's election. It was safe territory.

"I'm willing to give him a chance. Did you know him?"

"I met him once." Draco said, putting down his glass and filling it back up. He gestured to her almost empty glass and she nodded, letting him refill it for her. "He was a nice bloke, always seemed a bit odd he was working for dear ol' Auntie Bella." There was a bitterness to his tone as he brought up his departed aunt, and she leaned a bit closer, wishing she knew more about how he felt towards his family.

"George didn't like him at all."

"Weasley?" Draco asked, sounding shocked.

Hermione rolled her eyes at his reaction. She glared at him, standing up for her friend. "George happens to know a lot about politics. The Weasleys aren't the poor, low class, blood traitors you think they are."

"I know that, Granger, I just meant-"

She wasn't listening to him as she went, "And the Weasleys are my friends. They're like a second family to me and if you want to be my friend, then all these jabs at them and Harry have got to stop."

She took a deep breath and her eyes nearly bugged out like a cartoon's would when he said, solemnly, "You're right."

She had at least expected a little fight. She found herself asking the question she had stayed away from the last several weeks. The one question she'd been dying to ask. "What happened to you?"

Draco's eyes closed, like he had been waiting for this moment all this time. He sighed and pushed his plate away. It was practically empty anyway, so it wasn't like he was wasting anything. "The war, Granger. The war happened."

"And what?" Her voice was hard as she stared at him, "You just decided to be a better person?"

"I'm sure Potter told you all about how I couldn't kill Dumbledore. How I was too weak." He said, his voice tinged with a bitter edge, but it was also sad.

"No," Hermione said quickly. At his dubious look she said, "Well, he did tell us that. But you weren't weak. Draco, you were-"

"I was expected to kill him and I didn't." He let out a humourless laugh and then added, "Actually, the worst part was, he never even thought I could do it. He was just doing it to hurt my parents." She knew 'he' was Voldemort, but she didn't say anything as he went on. "I failed, just like he wanted me to. And that stupid old man didn't even try to stop me. Everything just went wrong on its own, _because I couldn't do it._ I was weak."

"Is that what you really think?" She asked, horrified. "That not killing Dumbledore made you weak? Merlin, Draco, it didn't. _Killing is for weak people_. There is nothing powerful about talking a human life. The reason you couldn't kill Dumbledore is because you didn't want to. You're better than all of them. You've always been." She reached across the table, taking his hands.

He didn't seem to believe her as he went on, staring at his lap. "Anyway, after that I was trapped. He took over the Manor and if I stepped out of line, he was going to kill my parents and vice versa. It's a miracle he _didn't_ kill them after what happened up in the Astronomy Tower. Snape saved them- told him I was going to do it, but he wanted all the glory for himself and stepped in before I could. Took a real beating for that, he did. But he saved my parents."

Hermione squeezed his hands. _There's Snape again,_ she thought, remembering Harry telling her what he'd seen the penseive, _saving everyone and not getting any credit. _

"Mum said... well she said we needed to get out of there. Dad agreed, you should have seen him, Granger. He was so sick. It was like he hated him more than anything. And dad used to idolise him- sing his praises, he did. Our house was like a shrine to him. But we didn't know how to get out, and then you lot got captured and showed up." His face twisted as the memory became fresh again.

"Dad was desperate. Thought if we could hand you over to him and then if we ran away, he'd let us go since we had given him you. Auntie Bella had something else in mind, I'm sure you remember. When he got there, he was furious and ready to kill all of us. He would have, too, if Snape hadn't shown up. I don't know what he said or how he knew what was going on, but he saved us all. Again."

He finally looked up at her, and she saw how miserable he looked. "When the war finally ended, Mum detoxed the Manor. Got rid of _everything_- except pictures and heirlooms. But she threw out everything and said that we had to be the opposite of what he was. Granger, you always thought he was foul and loathsome, but you don't know what it's like living with him."

She realised, with a jolt, he was right. He looked desperate for her to understand.

And she did.

But there was something else nagging at her. "You're not weak, Draco." She wasn't going to launch into some big speech about it, because he'd never believe her. It was something he had to come to terms with on his own and whenever he was ready.

He squeezed her hand back.

* * *

**A/N SOOOOO? :D Merry Christmas, guys! **

**Thanks to: Taylor F, alannalove1990, CheshireCat23, edwardsoneandonlylove, Guest E, Lupa Eira, VanillaKisses96, Honoria Granger, HalfwaytoNowhere142, and Loveable Leo! **


	24. Chapter Twenty-Four

_CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR_

'There have been five great kisses since 1642 B.C...(before then couples hooked thumbs.) And the precise rating of kisses is a terribly difficult thing, often leading to great controversy... Well, this one left them all behind.'  
~William Goldman, The Princess Bride~

Hermione showered first. Their tiny hotel bathroom didn't even have enough elbow room- as evidenced by the throbbing pain in her elbow from where she knocked it into the wall. She pulled on her shorts and t-shirt- determined to be dressed more modestly than when Draco walked in on her that morning (she could hardly believe so much had gone on in one day). She left the bathroom exhaust on and stepped back into their room.

Draco was lying on the bed, his stuff for his own trip to the bathroom sitting on the desk. Next to his stuff was a camera the Ministry had left behind. It was charmed to run all through the night and into the early morning to capture everything. Draco had the remote in his hand, the other arm propped up behind his head. Hermione stared at his flexed arm and the bulging bicep, before she hastily shook her head. He was watching music videos.

"Granger," He said, his eyes glued to the screen, "we have three channels. This is the only one that plays something in English- half of them being music videos." He turned to her, smiling, but then it was wiped clean off his face as he stared at her.

Hermione felt herself heating up and looked down at the floor. He made her nervous and excited. She walked around the room, putting her stuff in her bag. She glanced over at him- finding his eyes trained on her. She looked back at the bag and said, "Do you even know any of those bands?"

"They're muggle," He said, as if she should have known. "Is there a reason they wear so little clothes?"

Hermione glanced at the tv, seeing one of the more famous pop stars whose names she didn't know very well dancing in front of a bunch of ogling boys in sports cars. She bit her lip, turning back to arranging the stuff in her bag. She could have gone to sit on her bed whenever she wanted to, but she was waiting until Draco disappeared into the bathroom. Then she planned to be asleep by the time he got out.

But Draco didn't move. She felt his gaze on her and the same annoying pop song coming out of the tv. "Why do you care?" She asked, "Don't men like scantily clad women?"

She held her breath and he said, "Sure. Scantily clad women are great. You happen to look absolutely ravishing right now. You also look absolutely ravishing wearing those classy blouses and muggle denim trousers you like so much."

She nearly had a heart attack. _What_ had possessed him to say that? And what was she supposed to say back? Where was Ginny when you needed her? Her stomach felt like it had back when she was falling hard for Ron. Except this time it felt that much worst.

"They're jeans," She finally said, lamely. She realised she was losing this battle, standing by her bag hoping he'd leave. He was obviously content to stay right where he was, watching whatever music video it was and glancing at her backside.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself, and then turned around. She wasn't that brave or forward, seeing as she stared at the floor and then hid her legs under the blankets. She sat up, watching the telly, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Good to know," Draco said, a funny sort of smile adorning his face as he looked away from her. They were silent, a new video beginning to play. This time the singer was male and Italian, the video full of girls as back up dancers in strange baggy hip hop pants. She played with her thumbs.

She had it bad for Draco Malfoy. And not even remembering what a git he was in school was enough to change that. Because she couldn't hold his past against him. It was obvious how much he hated going back there via memory lane. His time under Voldemort's control, leadership- whatever you wanted to call it- were not shining moments for him.

"I'm sorry, Granger." Draco said, startling her out of her thoughts.

She thought he was apologising for calling her 'ravishing' and she was about to tell him it was fine, when he went on. "I'm sorry for everything I ever did to you. I called you awful names and I hexed you and- Merlin. How are you even talking to me right now?"

She shook her head, staring at him. His hair fell into his eyes- thank gosh he had put a shirt on when they got back to the room or she would have been a goner. "And don't say 'it's okay' or something. I was a complete prat and I didn't even care. I thought it was right to hate you and I did. I really hated you, Granger. And I have no idea why. I thought you were beneath me. Merlin, I was so wrong about everything. You didn't deserve any of that."

She reached out, touching his shoulder. "I forgive you."

She hadn't known how much she wanted to hear it until he said it.

And then that's when she had a very, very bad feeling that she was in love. And this time it felt nothing like when she thought she loved Ron.

Draco looked at her like she was an angel, come to save his soul or something stupid like that. The moment passed and he reverted back to his usual confident air and nodded. He glanced around the room and his eyes settled on his stuff for the shower. "I'm gonna shower." he said, practically leaping from the bed. He was gone in seconds- their room that small.

Hermione sighed, falling back in bed. She shut her eyes, her heart pounding. What was she going to do? She tried to sleep, but it was useless. She heard the shower turn on and suddenly she was imaging scenes she probably shouldn't have. Had Draco been picturing her-

She blushed and then buried her face into the pillow, groaning. The bed was so hard- that was the only reason she couldn't fall asleep. It had nothing to do with the boy a few feet away. When he came out, she frantically tried to act like she was asleep. She could hear his footsteps and then the ruffling of his bag.

She chanced a peak and saw he was wearing green silk pyjama bottoms and a black wife beater. She bit her lip- because those bottoms made his butt look-

He turned around and she shut her eyes. The tv turned off and then the lights followed and she heard him climbing into the bed pushed right up against hers. If this was a movie he would have kissed her cheek or something- because she was so beautiful he just couldn't resist.

But he didn't. And in moments he was snoring softly.

She wanted to kick him. How could he sleep on this hard bed? And after what they had just said to each other? Was she the only one with all these out of control emotions?

In the morning, Draco was shaking her. She groaned, her body rocking and she tried to push him off. There was some sort of ringing in the background, but she couldn't be bothered to process that. She had been up half the night and it felt like she had only just fallen asleep.

"Granger!" Draco hissed, "There's something in the room."

"You're the guy," She groaned, scooting to the edge of the bed. "You deal with it."

"Granger-" He said again, his hand closing on her shoulder. He rolled her over and she opened one eye, seeing his flawless face. "I'm serious."

"What?" She sighed, wondering how she looked in comparison to him.

"Don't you hear it?" He asked.

She paused. "All I hear is the phone ringing." She thought for a minute, seeing his blank stare. "Is that our wake up call?"

"A what?"

She sighed and then sat up, shoving Draco down. She reached across him, since he ended up with the bed by the phone. After answering the phone, confirming it was their wake up call, she dropped the phone and laid back down. She couldn't fall back asleep now and turned her head to look at the boy next to her.

He was studying her. "Are you always pale in the morning?"

"Yes." She rolled her eyes. "And if you're wondering, that was a wake up call. A call to wake us up so we don't waste the whole day asleep. When you stay at a hotel, most people arrange for one, just like I did last night. And they called on a telephone. Muggles use it to contact each other. That's all from Muggle 101 today. I'm assigning two chapters worth of reading due tomorrow."

"Very funny, Professor Granger." Draco said.

"Test next week," She said, sitting up. She moaned, stretching her arms up. Her shirt rode up a bit, but she couldn't bother to fix it. The stretch felt good and there was a dull pain in her back that had some relief.

Draco's fingers danced across her exposed flesh. She jumped, turning to him. He didn't apologise, much like she expected and reminiscent of the way he touched her thigh when she was ignoring him during the Olympics.

"Couldn't resist," He murmured, looking up at her from his pillow.

She bit her lip, her hair falling into her eyes. His hand fell away from her, resting right next to her body.

"How could I have ever called you ugly?" He said softly, and she figured he'd been talking to himself. "You're the exact opposite."

She rolled her eyes, getting out of bed, "It's too early in the morning for this. I'm going to brush my teeth."

When she was concealed safely in the bathroom, she smiled and blushed and wondered what the Ministry was going to do with that footage.

* * *

Apparently muggle transportation ended with the plane ride to Italy. They were Apparating to Tuscany, which crushed Hermione's dreams of seeing Italy from a train window as they sped across the countryside. Draco knew a spell that would send their bags home and he was waiting for her to finish getting ready so he could do just that.

She was having a hard time manoeuvring in the tight bathroom and kept knocking her same bruised elbow into the wall. "Ow," She cried for what seemed like the millionth time.

"Granger," There was a knock on the door, "Do you need help in there?"

"NO!" She shrieked, throwing herself at the door in case he got any ideas. She heard him laughing from the other side and sighed. She was already in the dress, it was purple and long with a bunch of the fabric bunched at her hip. It was one shoulder and showed more cleavage than she had expected. She attempted to style her hair with some spells, trying to get her hair up and have it frame her face nicely.

When she was finally satisfied, she took a deep breath and stepped outside. Draco was sitting on the bed, dressed in the black she had come to expect. But if he decided to wear silk green clothes anytime soon, she wasn't going to deny him.

"Finally," He said, turning towards her. "You were taking fo-" All words died on his lips as his eyes focused on her.

Hermione felt a gush of pride and beamed. She walked straight passed him, putting her clothes and make-up away. When she was done, she turned back to him, seeing that he was still incapable of speech. "Don't you have a spell to do?"

It seemed like there was a delay between his hearing and brain sending a message to his body. But he finally snapped back to attention and did the spell he was supposed to. Their bags disappeared and the pair of them said goodbye to their tiny Italian room.

"Time to check out," Hermione sighed, leading the way to the elevator.

"Granger," Draco cleared his throat, walking next to her. "You look amazing."

"I see you're going for the casual look tonight, as usual." She said, as they stepped into the lift.

Draco grinned before taking out his wand. She pushed the button for the lobby just as a purple rose materialised, pinned right onto his shirt. She looked up at him, at a loss for words and he seemed equally inept at speaking.

Merlin, what _were_ they?

They arrived in Tuscany, right outside a gorgeous villa. Hermione sucked a breath as she looked at all the vines weaving up around the house and red roof. There were olive trees in the front yard and a bright blue fiat in the driveway.

"I could live here," Hermione sighed.

Draco's hand snaked around her waist and he nodded in agreement. "No judgements."

The next villa was nowhere in sight, Hermione realised, looking around. It was obvious why the solitude was so favourable to Draco, who had spent his whole life living under the prying eyes and judgements of others. That's what came from being a part of a prominent pure-blood family. Especially with the aftermath of the war- the Malfoys had been plastered all over the Prophet with gossip about the trial, or lack thereof.

She tilted her head up so she could see him. He was so handsome- she was about to lose herself in a fantasy when Draco turned around. "Hi Mum."

Hermione turned around, finding Narcissa and Lucius dressed in matching silver. She smiled and pulled away from Draco to hug his mum. "Hermione, dear, you look beautiful. I hope my son here told you that."

Hermione blushed and ducked down, hoping to hide the flush. It was too bad her hair was up, so she had no escape.

"Yes, Mum," Draco said, obviously not too pleased either by his mother's remarks. "Why don't we go inside now?"

"Did you have a nice trip?" Narcissa asked, taking her son's arm so he could lead her inside.

Draco glanced back at Hermione, leaving her to walk with his father, before saying, "It was lovely."

Hermione squared her shoulders and followed the pair, determined not to be intimidated by Lucius' cold demeanour and harsh glare. Lucius, didn't seem to get the memo and said, "Granger," appearing next to her. "What are you doing with my son?"

"Filming this show," She answered, since she didn't really have an answer.

"He seems to feel differently." Lucius said, staring at the back of his son's head like he was trying to burn holes in it. Hermione shut her eyes tightly for a moment, but didn't get the chance to say anything since Lucius went on, "But I love my wife, contrary to what you might think of me."

She glanced at him, her mouth dropping. She had spent lots of time devoted to questioning Lucius' actions and wondering if truly loved Narcissa and Draco. But to hear him just come out and say it was bizarre and unexpected.

"And I want my son to find someone he loves." Lucius kept going, now staring at his wife's figure. "We'd been hoping it would be Astoria Greengrass. She's a respectable match- a well born pure-blood, decent at spell work, aesthetically pleasing. Their children would be perfect."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Figures all Lucius cared about was money and looks. Would he have even given Narcissa a second glance if she hadn't been so pretty? "But Draco doesn't seem to reciprocate her feelings. You, on the other hand," His voice changed then, it went from wistful to slightly bitter and Hermione sucked in a breath as she waited for the numerous insults to follow. There would also probably be 'Mudblood' in there somewhere.

"You are certainly pretty enough and very good at wand work. There's just the matter of your-" He stopped and seemed to consider his words carefully while Hermione was still reeling that he had called her 'pretty enough.'

"-blood status." He finally ended with.

She looked at Lucius and waited for him to say something else. He did: "If my son picks you and you so choose to reciprocate said feelings, know I will never give you my blessing or accept you. But I will leave you two to your own life."

She swallowed, figuring that was as good as she'd ever get coming from Lucius Malfoy. And he hadn't called her a 'Mudblood' so maybe it was a start. She bit her lip and nodded, not really sure if she was supposed to thank him. Lucius seemed as confused to, so he nodded back and then they found Draco and Narcissa staring at them intently.

"Everything okay?" Narcissa asked, looking a bit worried. Draco, though, seemed ready to leap into action any moment. Hermione realised this was the longest conversation she'd ever had with Lucius Malfoy and she hadn't even said anything for the entire duration.

Lucius nodded and looked at Hermione one final time before taking his wife in his arms and leading her inside. Lucius and his son shared a look as they walked by and the moment they were gone, Draco went to her side and said, "Are you okay? Whatever he said to you-"

"He gave me 'the talk.'" Hermione said, slightly dazed. 'The talk' she decided, was the best way to sum up what had happened.

Draco's nose scrunched up in a cute way and Hermione realised how deep she was in. She hadn't taken a hesitant step into the deep end of the pool, she had dived in. Head first.

"Pardon?" Draco asked, all his pure-blood etiquette training coming into play.

"Well, your father seems to think that... you, uh we... he..." She trailed off. This wasn't exactly how she pictured, possibly, revealing her feelings to Draco. Was she even going to do that? And did he even have feelings for her, because this whole situation was so abnormal she didn't even know if it was possible.

The meaning of her words was not lost on Draco as his face changed from confused to petrified. "He told you that I-? He said I'm- Merlin." His hands fell away from her shoulders and he looked like he was about to be sick.

"No!" Hermione said quickly, a bit louder than was necessary. She didn't even know what was going on anymore. "He just said that- well... I mean... I was kind of confused for most of it. Especially when he said I was pretty. I might have stopped listening after that."

"You're more than pretty, Granger." Draco whispered, his hand taking one of the curls she had framing her face. They were so close- all she had to do was tilt her head up and she could snog him if she wanted. "And I orchestrated this whole trip so I could spend more time with you."

"Why?" She breathed. His hand let go of her hair to touch her cheek and she held his wrist. "Don't you hate me?"

"Granger," He chuckled, "I haven't hated you for the longest time."

"You don't call me Hermione," She pointed out, but it came out breathier than she intended. His face was inches from hers- his hand warm.

"Hermione," Draco smiled, "I haven't hated you for the longest time. Better?"

"It's gonna take some work," She grinned, her heart fluttering when he laughed. And then he was leaning closer, getting rid of whatever distance existed. His lips were on hers and his hand on her cheek edged around to the back of her neck and kept her braced against him. His other hand found her hip and she busied herself by running her fingers through his hair and the tiny ones on the back of his neck.

Draco kissed her like a starved man and she wondered how long he had felt this way. He was strong and passionate and held her like he never planned on letting go. She wasn't too keen on the idea, either.

When they did finally pull away, Draco smiled. _Smiled._ Granted, he had been doing it a lot on this trip, but it was still a sight to see since he did it so rarely. Hermione felt giddy, like when you spot a rainbow after a storm.

"Hermione," he said, her name sliding from his lips easily. Like he'd always used her first name, "You're sure you don't hate me? After what a twat I was-"

She cut him off with a kiss. One he didn't seem to mind very much.

* * *

**A/N WELL? You should have seen it coming since the opening quote. If you don't read my quotes, then shame on you. I hope you liked it! You all waited long enough :D**

**Does anyone watch Merlin? Anyone? Gosh that finale took my heart and crushed it into tiny pieces. That was a horrible way to end the show. Seriously, I hope someone reading this knows what I am talking about. **

**Super awesome thanks to my lovely reviewers! :D vickifay27, Reipersectoria, Taylor F, alannalove1990, edwardsoneandonlylove, Guest, HarryPotterGeneration, Guest, Honoria Granger, Blah Blah Blah Monster, Lupa Eira, and Loveable Leo.**


	25. Chapter Twenty-Five

_CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE_

'I made a wish on this tree years go.' Marco says.  
'What did you wish for?' Bailey asks.  
Marco leans forward and whispers in Bailey's ear. 'I wished for her.'  
~Erin Morgenstern, The Night Circus~

Astoria Greengrass hadn't been too pleased to see Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger attached at the hip all night. She'd nearly a seizure when she saw him lean down and plant a kiss on her lips after she said something that obviously made him very happy. She hadn't been the only to notice. All in attendance had practically been shocked and hadn't been able to tear their eyes from the new couple all night.

So it was really no surprise when the pair of them ended up on the cover of the Prophet wearing their fancy outfits from dinner with the headline: 'Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger Together?'

The letter from Ginny had been waiting on Hermione's bed as soon as she got home from the trip.

_'Mione,_

_You're in Italy ALONE with Draco? WHAT DID I TELL YOU? This boy is madly in love with you and need to get on that. Harry told me everything. Well, not everything since he's a boy and you know how they are. They think five words is a story. Tell me everything as soon as you get home! Did you snog? Take silly pictures? Does Draco even do silly pictures? Is he too manly and stoic for such childish antics? Is he a good kisser? I bet he's a good kisser. Jeanie told me when she snogged him in fifth year it was wonderful and he has a magic tongue. HERMIONE, IS IT TRUE? Is Draco's tongue magic? I must know. _

_Thank Merlin this bleeding program ends next week so I can get home and SEE THIS FOR MYSELF. And drag all the answers out of you that you won't say via letter. Seriously, 'Mione, it is like pulling teeth with you. No pun intended- you know, since your parents pull teeth. I guess I don't make much sense right now since I'm on a Dramonie high. Yes, that it what I'm calling you two. You can call me and Harry Hinny or Garry. Our names don't really go well. Hinny is a bit weird, it's like you're calling us a ninny. But Garry is kinda growing on me. _

_Waiting impatiently,_

_One half of Garry_

Hermione was in a fit of laughter by the time she reached the bottom. She knew her response would madden Ginny to no end, and maybe that was why she wrote back:

_Ginny-_

_I cannot say anything via letter in case this owl is intercepted. You must wait until we meet in person. I will, however say that, THE SUBJECT's tongue is indeed magical. _

_Take care and I shall see you in a week. 'Mione_

Maybe a bit of Draco was rubbing off on her. Either way, they'd have lots to talk about when Ginny finally got home. Hermione sent the letter off during her lunch break and then went over to George's.

"And there she is!" His voice boomed out, as she entered the store. "The future Mrs. Malfoy!"

"Oh Merlin," She blushed, slapping her hand across her face. Everyone in the store turned to look at her as George came skipping down the centre to meet her. "That's not true and now someone is going to tell the Prophet we're engaged and it'll be the next headline."

George didn't seem deterred by this in the slightest. He had some big, dopy smile on his face and he hugged her tightly. She squirmed and coughed, his strength squeezing her body like a boa constrictor. He lifted her up, just to keep messing with her and the ruffled her hair once he'd put her back down. "You!" He laughed, "And Malfoy! I know I saw this coming, but I can't believe it! I for sure didn't think it was gonna happen this quickly!"

"Yeah, okay," She shoved him away and started fixing her hair. She couldn't help but smile. Nothing made her angry or frustrated these days. All she had to do was think about Draco holding her hand or kissing her or the way he always greeted her at the door instead of waiting for her to get to the study, like he used to.

"You're so whipped," George grinned, "Ah, I remember that feeling. Never get engaged." She knew he was kidding- it was obvious in the way he kept smiling. Angelina appeared out of no where, her arms loaded with inventory. She had been stocking shelves evidently. She didn't seem as amused as George and Hermione did with the jab.

"Never get engaged, eh?" She asked, giving George a death stare.

"I mean-" George stammered, offering her a nervous smile, "Never get engaged unless you are absolutely positive you're madly in love with them. Just like I am."

"Better," She said, before flashing Hermione a smile, "Make sure he treats you right."

"I will," She grinned, before waving at Angelina as she walked away to continue restocking shelves.

"Good advice," George added, when they were alone again. "If he ever says or does anything-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I got the same speech from my parents, Harry, your mum- she actually figured out how to use the phone to call me." Hermione said with a giggle.

"I wish I'd seen that." George grinned, "She and dad were probably pushing buttons and holding the blasted thing upside down."

"Either way, I've heard the same thing over and over again. You don't need to worry about me. I know enough spells to threaten him with, if I have to. But I don't think I will." Hermione said with a smile.

George nodded, "We know that. We all grew up with you, after all. But if you ever need back up, we're all here and willing to kick some Malfoy arse."

After work she returned home and got ready for her dinner date with Draco and their parents. This time they'd be gathering at the Manor and so her mum was in her usual flurry of nerves as soon as she got home. It was eerily similar to the evening she was freaking out when the Malfoys were coming over for the first time.

Hermione decided trying to calm her down was a lost cause and so she went to straight to her room to get ready. She pulled on a casual spring dress and left her hair down, before sitting down at her desk where her mum had left Ginny's latest letter.

Except it wasn't a letter. It was a Howler.

_MISS HERMIONE GRANGER,_

_HOW DARE YOU NOT TELL ME EVERYTHING ABOUT DRACO MALFOY'S MAGIC TONGUE. AFTER EVERYTHING I HAVE _EVER_ DONE FOR YOU. I LISTEN TO YOU MOAN AND MOAN ABOUT YOUR CRAMPS EVERY MONTH AND I WAS THERE TO HELP YOU THROUGH THE EMBARRASSING _THING_ THAT HAPPENED IN FIFTH YEAR. AND I SWORE TO NEVER REPEAT WHAT HAPPENED ON THE NIGHT OF AUGUST 16 ALL THOSE YEARS AGO. AND I HAVE NOT, BUT I WILL NOW. WE SNUCK OUT OF THE BURROW AND WENT NIGHT SWIMMING WITH THOSE TWO CUTE MUGGLE GUYS. AND YOUR BIKIN TOP CAME OFF WHEN YOU GOT HIT BY A HUGE WAVE. YES, RIGHT. I KNOW. I EXPECT THE MOST NOBLEST OF A RECAP OF YOUR TRIP TO ITALY WHEN I GET THERE._

_YOURS ALWAYS,_

_GINNY WEASLEY_

The letter tore itself to pieces. The Howler didn't have its desired affect as Hermione burst into a fit of giggles. Over the massive yelling, she hadn't hear the doorbell or the footsteps approaching her room.

"You flashed someone?" Her boyfriend's voice asked. She jumped and spun around in the chair, finding him staring at her in the doorway. He looked vaguely amused.

"Merlin," She blushed, "you were not supposed to ever know that. And what are you doing here?"

"Came to see you before dinner," He shrugged, walking into her room. He stopped in front of her and she grabbed his hands. "So you flashed someone?"

She groaned, burying her face in his stomach. "Oh my gosh, that means the camera filmed it. And now the whole world is going to know I lost my bathing suit top."

He pulled his hands free and wrapped them around her. "I can steal the film." He suggested. "I bet you made that fifteen year old's life."

"He wasn't fifteen." Hermione said.

"Younger?" Draco asked, and she lifted her head up to see his shocked face.

She blushed and shook her head, before hiding back in his stomach. "Hermione Granger, you naughty girl. _How _much older?"

"Three years older." She didn't know why she was telling him, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn't stop herself. It's like she wanted him to know, because- well, because it felt like he was supposed to know.

Draco laughed and she felt her embarrassment fading. She looked up, "Okay, now tell me your most embarrassing moment."

Draco laughed again, "I don't have any embarrassing moments. I'm Draco Malfoy."

She rolled her eyes and pinched his side. He flinched and she grinned, "Sooner or later you're going to tell me."

"Maybe when we finally stop filming this show," He grinned, "I already had to bare my soul to you in front of it,"

"Fair enough," She smiled and the stood up, grabbing her purse. "Lets go find my parents." She pulled him out of the room and found both her parents already waiting in the living room.

Her mum beamed when she saw their clasped hands. "Ready to go?"

Narcissa and Lucius were waiting for them as soon as they got there. Literally. There was a table set up outside on their large estate. From the moment they arrived, fresh off an Apparating daze, Narcissa was waving them over.

Draco rolled his eyes, but was still smiling as he said, "She's obviously very excited." He turned to Hermione and added, "She tried to cook today. She barged into the kitchen and made Puffy teach her how to grill the meat."

Hermione smiled, "That's great."

Her parents were already exchanging greetings with the Malfoys and she took a moment to wonder how this was actually happening. If you had told her way back in first year that she would be happily dating Draco Malfoy and their parents would be friendly towards each other she would have laughed. But now she couldn't imagine anything else.

"Oh," Narcissa was saying, as they arrived at the table. "I forgot the cups. _Accio-_"

"Mum," Draco cut in, "I'll go get them."

Hermione's head swivelled around so fast she nearly broke her neck. "You'll _what_?"

Draco looked down at her, "I'm going to get the cups..." He trailed off.

"But you- and the magic- and..."

Draco took her hand and tugged her along with him, "We're gonna go get the cups!" He called behind his shoulder, as if he hadn't made that fact clear moments ago.

"Your home is so large," Hermione's mum said as they left. The door shut behind them and Draco squeezed her hand.

"You're not using magic." She said.

"Of course I'm using magic," Draco said, like that was obvious. "I'm just walking to get cups and using my hands to carrying them back out. Someone once told me that it would be nice if I did some stuff for myself every once and awhile."

She stopped walking and pulled hard on his hand. Draco stumbled and turned around to look at her. He had some goofy smile on his face and she was sure she looked mad as she pulled him down to her and kissed him.

She had no idea why his admission had meant so much to her, but it made her just want to kiss him and keep kissing him and _feel_ him. His body was smooth and hard and he didn't seem to mind the slightly animalistic craze she was in. He pressed his pelvis against her, bracing her against the wall.

And then she realised everything they were doing was being filmed. So she pulled away and they went to retrieve the cups without further delays all the while glancing at each other with lovestruck grins when they thought the other wasn't watching.

"Did you two get lost?" Narcissa asked, when they arrived back outside.

Hermione blushed and hid her head in Draco's shoulder. Draco chuckled, "Hermione just lost her self contr- _ow._" She had stomped on his foot. "Merlin, woman. Know your own strength."

Hermione huffed and walked away from him, knowing he had a grin plastered on his face. He was always so confident, she noted. It wasn't anything new, but if her mum had been the one to say that she would have gritted her teeth and moaned, "Mum," but not Draco. No, he was just about to tell them all how she pounced on him in the hallway like it was no big deal.

Draco took the seat next to her and as was the usual, the food appeared in front of them. Her parents spent a few moments marvelling over this nifty piece of magic and then Narcissa launched into conversation about Hamlet, which she had finally read.

"That poor boy," She lamented, "Driven mad by the ghost of his father, his uncle's betrayal and his mother's, no less. And then his strange love for that Ophelia character. They were an odd pair weren't they? Why couldn't she have just told him she loved him instead of all that drama?"

"We have the film if you'd like to watch it. The modern one with that bloke from Hermione's show." Her dad said, "About that Doctor or something."

"Very funny, dad," Hermione rolled her eyes, knowing full well her dad knew name of the most famous tv show in all of England. The show had been around for nearly fifty years. She turned to Narcissa, "I've always loved Horatio's final words to Hamlet when he dies. Gives me chills."

"'Sweet prince.' Yes, yes, it's all touching. Can we talk about camping now?" Draco cut in, serving himself a helping of mashed potatoes (instead of using his wand, Hermione noted).

Hermione turned to Draco. She and Narcissa said at the same time, "You've read Hamlet?"

Draco cleared his throat and glanced down at his plate, realising he'd revealed one of his dark secrets. He glanced at Hermione and said, "Read mum's giant Shakespeare book a few weeks ago. Merlin, Hermione, do try and control yourself. I don't think either of our parents would enjoy it half as much as I would if you mauled me again-"

She glared at him and the effect was heavy enough to shut him up. "So camping," He added, steering the conversation away from Hamlet and how much Hermione wanted so snog him- or possibly jump his bones-, looking at her parents. "I heard there's a trip going on soon. So you sleep outside and eat fish?"

Hermione wished he had kept talking about how much she wanted to snog him. Except at the moment whatever passion that surged in her at the mention of her boyfriend reading Hamlet and remembering enough to know Horatio said something along the lines of 'sweet prince' at the end of the play disappeared and she wanted to kick him.

Her mum brightened up. "Yes, we're going this weekend. What you do is you sleep in tents and have a campfire. It's very nice. There's a lake and lots of trees."

"And mosquitos," Her dad added, clearly not onboard with the camping idea. "And no beds."

"Tents..." Draco trailed off, "No beds? But our tent-"

Hermione remembered the Weasleys' tent she stayed in during the Quidditch World Cup. It had been amazing and unreal. It had served as her inspiration for the magic pouch she'd brought along on her and Harry and Ron's journey to destroy the Horcruxes. Draco had also been at the Quidditch World Cup- she remembered. She'd seen him during the game and during the Death Eater attack.

"Not that kind of tent." She told him, "Muggle tents aren't magically enchanted to be as big as a house."

Understanding flashed across his features. "So how big is a normal tent?"

"Not big," Her dad said, with a roll of his eyes.

"Draco, why don't you come with us?" Her mum said, completely disregarding the death look her daughter was sending her. "You obviously seem very interested in the whole thing."

"Oh, I am." Draco said, sounding like the world's biggest kiss up. Hermione rolled her eyes and remembered why he had annoyed her in classes so much. "But Hermione here already told me I couldn't come."

"Nonsense!" Her mum went on, like Hermione had no say in anything. "You come along. We'd love to have you."

"That's great!" Draco exclaimed, happily. He had a smirk on his face, and Hermione realised he'd been planning this ambush attack and now he was pleased with himself for weaselling himself into their trip. His arm went around her shoulders and he tugged her close to him, "We're gonna have a great time, Hermione."

"Fantastic." She rolled her eyes.

When the Granger family arrived home, Hermione was instantly faced with her mum's questions. "Why didn't you want Draco to come on the camping trip?"

"It's going to be a disaster!" She said, falling down onto the couch. "Besides the fact that dad and I don't want to go, there won't be air condition or beds or running water and there's a million insects just waiting to eat us alive. Draco will go insane. He has silk pyjamas, mum. _Silk_. And have you seen his hair? He was raised with all the riches in the world. He's going to be complaining and- Merlin. This is going to be a disaster."

"Maybe it won't be so bad, 'Mione," Her dad said, taking off his tie and sitting next to her. He squeezed her knee in comfort, but it didn't do much.

"Dad, remember last time?"

Her dad looked very much like he remembered last time if the pure look of dread that flashed across his face was any indicator. Her mum sighed and took the love seat. "You two really don't want to go that much?"

"Yes," they said, without any hesitation.

They hoped she'd rethink this whole crazy camping trip idea. But instead her face hardened and she stood up. "Well you," She looked at Hermione, "and your boyfriend," then she turned to her husband, "and you, are going to have to suck it up. We are going to go camping and are all going to have a jolly good time! Good night."

"You did this to us." Hermione said, dropping her head onto her dad's shoulder.

"How?" He asked tiredly.

"You picked her."

* * *

**A/N Hello! Happy 2013, guys. I hope you all have a great year, full of(,?) good food, good memories, and good health. Hope you liked this chapter and you'll leave me a review :D**

**Thanks to my FABULOUS reviewers (and to all those that understood my plight about Merlin. I'm not sad anymore, just mad.): FuryPossessed, alannalove1990, CheshireCat23, zzsheilahzz, Blah Blah Blah Monster, Lupa Eira, edwardsoneandonlylove, Honoria Granger, Nia Hazlitt, HarryPotterGeneration, Reipersecutoria, Guest, Loveable Leo, and vickifay27! **


	26. Chapter Twenty-Six

_CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX_

'Adventures are all very well in their place, but there's a lot to be said for regular meals and freedom from pain.'  
~Neil Gaiman, Stardust~

It was after dinner when a ton of rocks hit the door. At least- that's what it sounded like. Neither of Hermione's parents even moved from the couch, their eyes glued to the sitcom they were watching. Hermione stood up, trying to suppress a smile. She knew exactly who was having a seizure on her doorstep.

A mess of red hair attacked her before she even had the door open all the way. Hermione laughed and hugged her long lost friend back. "Oh, 'MIONE!" Ginny shrieked.

"Missed you too, Gin," Hermione smiled, shutting the door with her foot.

"Hello, Ginny," Mrs. Granger called from the couch, and Ginny let go of Hermione.

"Hi Maria. Hi Burt." Ginny waved, sounding nothing like the Draco Malfoy obsessed girl she was about to turn into as soon as they reached Hermione's room.

"How was your astronomy program?"

"It was great. I learned a lot, but I can't believe I'll be back there in a month for proper school. And it's my last year. Crazy." Ginny grinned, her eyes widening a bit as the thought of her final year hit her full force.

Mrs. Granger smiled, "You all grew up so fast. Well, I won't keep you girls. I know you're both dying to catch up and swoon over someone's boyfriend." She gave them a knowing look and then turned back to the telly.

Ginny squealed and grabbed Hermione's arm, pulling her in the direction of her room without any sort of hesitation. Hermione rolled her eyes but felt herself getting giddy. She hadn't gushed to anyone about Draco and she had never really gushed about Ron since Ginny didn't want to hear about her brother and Harry was just awkward about everything.

Ginny slammed her door, "Tell me everything."

Hermione fell back on her bed. "I don't know where to begin."

"Who made the first move?" Ginny crossed her legs on the bed and looked like an excited puppy about to get a treat.

Hermione bit her lip, "Lucius."

"What? Is this some weird kinky story?"

"No!" Hermione blushed, "He was just saying that he'd never approve of me and Draco and then Draco came over and asked me what his dad said to me and then it just kind of happened. There wasn't any huge proclamations of love." She said, feeling like the story fell short.

"Well that's a pants story." Ginny said, her tone not as excited as it had once been. "Oh well. So, is he a good kisser?"

"I believe I already answered that question."

"I want to hear you say it. I have spent the better part of my life swooning over Draco Malfoy without letting anyone know. So _you_ have to tell me everything. It's what best friends do." Ginny said, flicking her friend's arm.

Hermione flicked her shoulder back and said, "Fine. He's the best kisser, okay? He has strong arms and sometimes I don't know what's better: him holding me or kissing me. There. Living vicariously through me yet?"

Ginny squealed, "Does he treat you like glass or is he strong and possessive? Harry likes to-"

"Please, Gin, no. I let you go on about Harry but I just had dinner and I am not in the mood to hear however Harry likes to-" She shuddered and bravely faced down Ginny's glare.

"Fine," She pouted and then Hermione told her about Draco's chiseled chest and the way he walked around without a shirt in Italy to appease her for her complete lack of excitement about Harry's tongue. Eventually they stopped talking about Draco and put in a movie and stuffed their faces with candy Ginny had bought from the trolley onboard the Hogwarts Express during her trip home.

In the morning, they gathered around the breakfast table and Ginny helped Hermione and her mum pack the rest of their camping gear. The monstrous pile in the living room had slowly begun to disappear and it was now becoming a mountain of bags. Hermione could tell Ginny wanted to use magic to pack everything, but she was grateful she had refrained. Hermione struggled with fitting all the bug repellent and sun block into the already stuffed full duffel bag and only succeeded in zipping it shut when Ginny plopped down next to her and helped her pull.

They nearly broke the zipper.

But it closed.

"You bringing the whole house with you?" Ginny muttered, rubbing her fingers.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "That's how Mum packs for _everything_."

"I just want us to be prepared for anything." Mrs. Granger shot back, reaching for her clipboard where she had many a pages of lists.

"Like a bear eating all our food," Hermione said, dropping down onto the couch.

"Or," Ginny joined in, "no batteries for the flashlights. That's what they're called, right? Batteries and flashlights?"

Hermione nodded and then said, "Or if there's a hurricane and we're stranded out in the inclement weather."

"We should have a plan in case that happens!" Mrs. Granger said defensively and then stalked out of the living room.

Hermione rolled her eyes and reached for the remote in front of her on the coffee table. She turned on the tv and flicked through some channels as Ginny said, "Now I know where you get your OCD from."

"It's genetic," Hermione grinned, and then a thought occurred to her. "Wanna meet Draco?"

"YES!" Ginny sat up so fast she got dizzy. It took her a moment to see properly and then she launched herself at her best friend. "Please, please, please! I want to meet him! I'll tell Harry! It'll be a double date! Yes, yes, yes 'Mione, please!"

"Okay," She laughed, prying the redhead off her. "Calm down. I'll owl him." It would have been easier if he learned how to use a phone, but one step at a time, she figured. He'd have to use a phone eventually. That was one muggle device he wouldn't be escaping.

Draco wrote her back fairly quickly and they arranged to meet for lunch. Ginny used Hermione's phone to call her boyfriend, who thankfully didn't have auror training that day. Ginny couldn't stop looking at the clock after that. She checked the time every second, waiting for the moment they could finally leave and she could have eye sex with Draco Malfoy. Or maybe, Hermione thought wryly, it was more like eye rape.

"Stop staring at the clock," Hermione said an hour later, "and help me pack!"

Mrs. Granger was outside attaching their bicycles to the back of the car. Hermione had been given the task of packing pots and pans. Ginny huffed and walked in the kitchen, a series of banging and clanging resounding throughout the house. Hermione rolled her eyes and tugged on one of the bag's straps. She fell backwards and glanced at the camera guy who was laughing at her and rolled her eyes.

Ginny was the one who announced it was time to leave when the clock struck exactly twelve thirty. Of course she had been the first to know, since she was the one who hadn't taken her eyes off the clock the whole morning.

"Bye, Mum!" Hermione called over her shoulder as Ginny pulled and tugged and practically whimpered out the door.

"Have fun girls," She laughed and went back to packing.

"Would you relax yourse-" Hermione's words were suddenly cut off as she was ripped from the spot she was standing in and it felt like she was hurtling through time and space, her stomach churning and everything around her a flash of colour.

It was all over in a second and then her feet were back on the floor and she was trying to catch her breath as a pair of strong hands went around her waist. "Woah there, tiger." A familiar voice said, his hands never leaving her.

"Gin, you killed 'Mione," Another voice said, and Hermione realised it was Harry- which meant that the arms holding her were none other than her boyfriend. She caught her breath and turned around to find him grinning at her.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

She nodded and then said loudly, "GINNY was just so excited to see you that she Apparated like the world was ending."

"NO!" Ginny protested hotly, and Hermione turned to find Harry rolling his eyes and Ginny's face flaming red to match her hair.

Hermione rolled her eyes and then greeted her friend. "Hey, Harry. I hope we didn't keep you."

"Not at all," He smiled, "You're right on time." He wrapped his arm around Ginny, steering her inside. "We'll go get a table."

"No, but- I wanna see-" Ginny said, trying to get free of Harry and turn back to them. But Harry was strong and in to time they had disappeared into the cafe, leaving Draco and Hermione to their own private greeting.

Hermione smiled and turned back to him. "She'll relax soon. I think."

Draco didn't seem to have heard her as he said, "Hi, Hermione."

She felt giddy and smiled, "Hey, Draco."

His grin melted into a smile and he pulled her against him for a chaste kiss. It was simple and nice and even that soft greeting was enough to make her feel like she was floating. They went inside shortly after and found Ginny and Harry in a booth. Harry was already studying the menu. He appeared to be telling Ginny something and pointing at the booklet in front of him, but Ginny had her eyes zeroed in on them, in a way that told Hermione she'd been watching the door.

They slid into the booth and Hermione took the lead of introducing them all, even though they all knew each other. It felt like this was the beginning of something new. They were all different now. Except Ginny- Hermione figured. She was pretty much the same jumpy and easily amused girl she'd always been. Harry was still Harry, Hermione also thought, except with a bit more self control. So maybe the only people that had changed were her and Draco.

"And I'm Hermione," She added.

Ginny rolled her eyes, "Like we didn't all know that. Now, _Draco..._"

Hermione didn't listen to what Ginny asked him. Harry was giving her that _look._ That distinctively Harry look. The one he gave her when he knew she was lying or thinking something. Then he smiled and she knew he understood what she had been thinking about herself.

"It's nice to meet you, Hermione," He smiled.

She couldn't believe where she was. Not just as this new person, waiting for results about university, nonetheless, but sitting in this cafe with her two best friends and Draco Malfoy. Draco didn't seem to mind all of Ginny's prodding and something in the way he answered all of her questions made her feel lightheaded- in the best way possible, of course. She didn't even mind the cameras all that much. It was only for a few more weeks anyway. She had gotten a letter from the Ministry a few days ago that confirmed their original plan was all going accordingly and they would be able to air the show during the holidays.

And then she would be alone with Draco for real and they could be together, until he had to leave for Scotland. They could read as much as they wanted and she could snog him in the hallways without being video taped for the whole world. They could debate politics and take trips to Italy (and Scotland). They could do anything. Be anything.

Besides, Draco still owed her his most embarrassing moment.

_Dear Ms. Granger,_

_We are pleased to inform you that the end date for filming of "The Muggle-Pureblood Relations Program" is set for September 23, one month from today. We would like to thank you for all your hard work into making this show possible and overcoming your differences. And it is not just you. We are pleased to report that everyone has cooperated to make this a highly successful project. Hopefully the rest of the wizarding world will agree and we can all celebrated having made something spectacular together._

_Thank you again._

_Sincerely,_

_Marty Biggs_

_Creator of The Muggle-Pureblood Relations Program_

_Head of the Muggle Relations Department_

* * *

Hermione woke up the morning of the camping trip with a pit in her stomach. She wanted to fake an illness, but she had a feeling her mum wouldn't buy it or, for that matter, care. It had long been established there was no way she was getting out of this. Either way, she tried to fold her body up and blend in with her bed. She reached over and snoozed her alarm, but it rang again in ten minutes, another reminder she would have to face the nightmare eventually.

"'Mione," Her dad's voice said through her closed door, "If I have to go, so do you! Up and at 'em!"

Hermione groaned. There was a loud bang from outside.

"BURT?" Her mum's voice shrieked, sounding frantic. "What was that?"

"It's fine! Not to worry, love," Her dad said, sounding perfectly okay. Hermione rolled her eyes and got out of bed. Another reason she didn't want to go on the trip was because her mum usually morphed into a psycho, worried, control freak. As if all the lists and back up plans she made weren't enough.

"I'm coming to check!" Her mum said.

"NO! I mean, no, really, I'm okay,"

Hermione took a shower. She made sure it was steaming hot and took a longer time than she normally would have. This would be her last real shower for two days, after all. She tied her hair in pony tail, which was also staying like that for two days. Her backpack wasn't very heavy as it mainly consisted of extra sweat pants, two books, and her wand. She made sure she made sure to keep her wand in its case. As if she hadn't remembered Mad Eye's warnings of keeping your wand secure, she now had Harry and Ron reminding her, too. They truly were on their way to becoming aurors.

Speaking of Harry, he sent her a good luck text message as she was descending the stairs. She smiled, wrote back, and stowed her phone in the zippered part of her bag. When she got to the bottom of the stairs, she took in the scene around her. All the bags had been moved to the car. There was toast on the table, which was apparently all she could have for breakfast since all the appliances had been unplugged.

Crookshanks meowed and rubbed his head against her leg. Hermione bent down and picked up her old friend. "I know Mum's making us go away, but Mrs. Trudy is coming over. You know Mrs. Trudy from next door. She's gonna come by and feed you. And clean your litter box. And then we'll be back soon and I'll rub your tummy how you like."

"You do know they're filming, right?" Her dad asked, coming back in the front door, looking meaningfully at the camera man standing by the telly with the camera trained on her.

Hermione grinned, "They're always filming." She let her cat go, who had started to squirm in her arms, and went to get a piece of toast. The whole wizarding world witnessing the way her voice changed embarrassingly when she talked to her cat was the last thing on her mind.

Draco was supposed to Apparate to their house. And then they would drive three hours to Drexel Woods where they'd be camping for two nights. Draco had never been in a muggle car, for starters. Hermione sighed, not looking forward anything that was about to happen.

"What do you think?" Her mum's voice asked. There were footsteps coming down the stairs and Hermione looked up to see her mum clad in an obscenely bright red, puffy vest, a long sleeve shirt, form fitting khaki pants, and huge, lace-up construction-esque boots.

Hermione grimaced.

"Honey, you do know it's summer, right?" Her dad asked. Hermione glanced at him and saw he was in jeans, sneakers, and a t-shirt.

"We need to keep our arms and legs covered. There's ticks and mosquitos and-"

"THEN WHY ARE WE GOING CAMPING?" Hermione huffed, stuffing a piece of toast in her mouth. "Oh the irony."

"Hermione, drop the 'Woe is me' attitude." Her mum chided.

Hermione sighed, deciding that was wise advice. She stepped outside, was greeted by humid air, and went to look at their car. It was small-ish and the there were dents in the bumper. She put her backpack in the back seat and when she turned around, there was a faint _pop! _and then Draco was standing in front of her.

"WHAT are you wearing?" Hermione asked, her eyes practically popping out of her head. It hadn't meant to be the first thing she said, but she couldn't control herself. She had expected Draco to be completely out of his element, but she hoped with the binder full of notes she'd prepared for him, he'd had be a tiny bit prepared.

All her hope shot out the window when her boyfriend showed up wearing his usual black trousers, a _cloak_, and a green Slytherin t-shirt. His hair was gelled back and looked hard as marble.

Draco looked down at himself. He smiled, like he knew something she didn't, and said, "You said casual."

"_That's _casual?" She asked, thunderstruck.

"Hermione," He came towards her, wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned in close. His breath tickled her face as he said, "relax." And then his lips covered hers, momentarily making the knot in her stomach unclench.

She smiled, "But seriously, you're not going to survive in that."

"I know," Draco smiled, "Which is why this isn't what I'm going camping in." Before she could say anything, he snapped his fingers and in an instant his hair was free falling, all the gel gone. His clothes had changed from that disastrous ensemble to actual muggle jeans. The Slytherin shirt remained.

"You git!" Hermione laughed, linking their hands together. "You just wanted to freak me out!"

Draco smirked, like a kid that had just gotten away with pulling his crush's pigtails. Hermione's parents came out of the front door then, ending their conversation. "Good morning, Draco!" Her mum said, walking over while her dad locked the front door.

"Hello Maria," Draco greeted, his voice silky smooth. Hermione rolled her eyes, but felt her stomach leap (for a _second_). "Beautiful day we have."

"Yes," Maria smiled, looking up at the clear sky, like this was proof, "We do. We're going to have a great time."

Both Hermione and he dad snorted. "Lets hit the road, gang," Her dad said, smiling nervously at his wife, who was glaring at him.

"Joy," Hermione muttered.

Draco put his hand on her lower back and leaned down, so that his lips brushed her ear. "Cheers."

There was a charmed camera situated in the back of the car, that way they could be alone during the car ride. The cameramen would be Apparating to the camp ground on their own. It was like when Draco and her were left alone during their trip to Italy, but the Ministry was still able to capture everything for the show.

Hermione's mum passed her the GPS from the front seat. "Could you put in the-"

"Yes, Mum," Hermione said, taking the electronic from her hand. Draco watched in complete fascination as she input the information and a mechanical voice told them to turn right on Hastings Avenue and continue for one fourth a mile and then turn left onto Mooring Street.

"What was that?" Draco asked, and her dad saved her from explaining the wonderful powers of the navigation device.

But that didn't last for long, because Draco had never been in a muggle car before and cars were obviously more fascinating. "Seat belts, everyone!" Her mum said, once the GPS was properly situated on the dashboard and the air conditioner was on.

"This thing-" Draco was pulling on the seatbelt that kept getting stuck, "You said I need to put it-"

"Let go!" Hermione laughed, reaching across to take his hand in an effort to make him let go. The seat belts in their old car were equally as old, and so like most old things, they were a bit run down. They frequently got stuck and the only way to unstick them was to let it go and then pull again.

Draco laughed and swatted Hermione's hand away. He pulled again just as they merged onto the interstate. Distracted, he looked out the window and saw a multitude of cars in different shapes and colours, all plodding along the same road. "There's so many-"

"AH HA!" Hermione shrieked, successfully wrangling the seat belt away. In no time he was strapped in and perfectly safe.

"Strange these muggle inventions..." Draco reflected, looking down at the strap across his chest. He had obviously lost interest in all the cars on the motor way.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "It is not _strange._ Just because there's no seat belts on BROOMS doesn't mean-"

"It's a piece of fabric across your chest, Hermione," Draco said, sounding unimpressed.

"You couldn't even put it on." She deadpanned.

"Touché." smirked Draco.

It was a long ride. They stopped once to refill petrol allowing Hermione to introduce Draco to the marvels of rest stops. He wasn't impressed, as there really was nothing to be impressed about. They grabbed granola bars and cold drinks to keep them energised.

Hermione had been reading for the last mile, her shoes forgotten, and her head on the window, when Draco decided to take out his own book. She glanced up, curious as to what he was now reading. She only saw the blue cover before she understood and gasped, "IT WAS YOU!"

Draco's eyes flicked up to look at her, and then he opened the book and started to read. There was a small smile on his lips and Hermione sat up quickly. "_You_ stole my book!"

"I didn't _steal_ it." Draco said, with a roll of his eyes. "I nicked it without saying anything and when I finish reading it, you'll get it back."

"I was looking for it all week!" Hermione huffed.

"If you had said something to me, I would have told you not to fear." Draco grinned, looking back at the page he was on.

"Merlin, you prat." Hermione muttered in disbelief. And just because he didn't seem sorry enough, she kicked his leg. It didn't seem to soften him up.

The rest of the car ride passed easily, both of them engrossed in their own books. When they finally arrived, Hermione was grateful to stretch out her back. She sighed and then took her bag and the two others her dad passed her. Draco took his own bag, and the coolers, full of their food and water bottles.

He winked at her, before flexing his arm, using the coolers as weights. She was happy he remembered her note about not using any magic. They were camping. Legit camping. Not that legit camping was so great, but that was the experience her mum seemed to want to have _again_, for who knew what reasons.

"The adventure begins!" Her mum smiled.

Hermione and her dads exchanged looks of misery, before following.

They walked a mile into the forest. Hermione made sure to watch the ground for loose pebbles that would make her slip and sneaky tree roots. The trees started to open up the farther they went, and eventually they found themselves by a lake.

"Okay! This is a good spot." Her mum said, "Lets pitch our tents! Hermione, I think I packed yours in the red bag."

The red bag, Hermione looked around, and found it in the pile of things her dad had dropped ungracefully to the ground. She went over to retrieve it and looked at Draco, "And where is your tent?"

"I was supposed to bring a tent?" Draco asked, smiling, in a way that told her he still wasn't sorry.

"You didn't bring a tent." It was supposed to be a question, but it ended up as more of a statement. Of course Draco hadn't brought a tent. He only owned a magical one.

"I thought we were bunking together." He grinned, winking again.

For a moment, Hermione's stomach leapt again. She scowled, "Don't you even think about doing _anythi-_"

"Me? I would never." Draco looked affronted. "I'm a saint, 'Mione. You're the one with all these insinuations."

She couldn't do anything but laugh. Pulling the bunched up tent out of the bag, she tossed Draco the poles. He looked confused and held them out in front of him. "How does _this_ make a tent stand up?"

"Who knows," Hermione muttered.

After half an hour, they were still in the exact same position. Her parents had successfully built their's fifteen minutes before and had gone off on a romantic _stroll_ around the lake after laughing heartily at them.

"If my _mum_ could do it, why can't-" Hermione trailed off, glaring at the incompetent tent.

"You know, we could use-"

"NO!" Hermione yelled, "No magic. We are not using magic."

"Magic isn't the end of the world, Hermione." Draco said, his voice a bit more serious than it had been while they struggled with the tent.

"It also isn't the answer to every problem." She said, taking up the string again.

Draco sighed and Hermione realised they were disagreeing. She paused. This was to expected, they had both been raised in two parallel worlds, practically, and she knew Draco was going to have a hard time on this trip, but she had hoped they would at least get passed pitching the tent.

"Look, you can Apparate out of her anytime you want." Hermione told him, going back to the tent. "I know you think magic is might and that muggles are inferior and-"

"_Hermione,"_ The only reason she looked at him was because his voice has suddenly gone stone cold. It scared the crap out of her. "Is that what you think I think?"

She flailed like a fish out of water and looked at him in shock. "Magic is might? That Death Eater shit from the war? How can you even say that? We might have come from two different worlds, but that's not what I believe in now. Hell, I don't know WHAT I believe in, but it isn't that. All I know, is that when I see you, or I hear your name, or listen to you, I want to be good enough for you. You deserve someone that can understand your world and be a man and-"

His words had turned her world inside out. That might have been the most romantic thing he ever said- in a weird way. She stepped forward, touching his shoulders. "You are good. We're just different and it'll take some time. But we're gonna figure it out."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know everything, remember? You told me about the volcanoes on Hawaii, which was the only thing I didn't know." Hermione said, squeezing his shoulders.

"That was lame," Draco rolled his eyes. "And I didn't know what I was doing back then."

"I don't know what I'm doing right now."

"I thought you knew everything."

"Shut up."

"Did you pitch your tent yet?" Her dad said, making both of them jump apart, like they'd been caught doing something horribly wrong.

"I thought you were going for a walk!" Hermione said, flustered. She glanced at Draco quickly and then back at her dad.

"We were. But we forgot the camera." Her mum supplied, pulling the object out of a green bag. They had lots of coloured bags. "Have fun you two, but make sure you pitch your tent or you'll be sleeping under the stars tonight."

When they were alone again, Draco wrapped his arms around her waist. He pulled her close and dropped his head onto her neck. He kissed her softly and said, "That could be romantic."

"Look at you. Who knew you were a closet romantic," She joked, playing with his hair.

"I am not!" Draco said indignantly, pulling away. "I am who I am and I am who I is."

"If you say so. Now, about that tent..."

That night, after their tent was finally assembled, they were gathered around the campfire. Her mum was spraying so much mosquito repellent it blocked out the natural scent of pine that surrounded them. Hermione sighed and dropped her head onto Draco's shoulder. He wasn't much comfort, as he smacked the back of his neck.

"Damn! Another bleeding bugger. Maria, pass it over."

"No," Hermione groaned, sliding away from Draco as he sprayed the repellent over his skin.

It didn't help. The mosquitos kept coming and Hermione and her dad sat together as Draco and Maria swatted at the air and at their skin. "We told them this would happen." Her dad said, satisfied that they were being proven right.

"We said it wouldn't be fun." Hermione added.

"But did they listen?"

"Nope," They finished together. Hermione smiled and nudged her dad, grateful he was there with them. Then she scratched her arm, where she had her own bite.

"How about we sing some campfire songs?" Her mum suggested, trying to mask that the trip wasn't everything she hoped it would be.

"What songs actually count as campfire songs?" Hermione asked.

After singing two songs, one that was made up- Hermione was sure of it- Maria seemed ready to take a shower. She always showered after dinner. A look of pure dismay shown across her features as she realised the only shower she was getting was in the form of the cold lake.

"At least you'll get a good night's sleep." Hermione smiled broadly, knowing that this was not going to happen.

Her mum looked unhappy, before remembering she was supposed to be having a good time. "We can skip rocks," She suggested.

"Skip rocks," Hermione muttered sarcastically. "Of course. Why didn't I think of that?"

"Maybe because no one has done that for fun since before the Industrial Revolution," Her dad muttered behind her. She snorted.

* * *

As the night wore on, Maria's hair was getting frizzier. Hermione sat under a tree with a flashlight and her book. Her dad was teaching Draco how to fish, though Hermione doubted they would catch anything.

"OW!" Draco yelled, not for the first time.

Her dad laughed, his standard reaction. "I said put the worm on the hook, not your finger."

"This bloody worm keeps moving!" Draco said, obviously frustrated. "How do muggles think this is fun?"

"Here, I'll do it," Her dad reached over and took the worm from Draco's hand.

Hermione rolled her eyes and tried to focus on the book she was reading. She had read nearly a whole chapter when Draco yelped again. She looked up, expecting him to be wrestling with his fishing pole, but found him and her dad catapulting away from the lake at record speed. Confused, she sat up and arched her neck, trying to see what had spooked them.

She didn't see anything, but her heart was pounding. They had to have seemed something. She turned back to the lake, and found Draco running towards her. "Hermione, get up!"

"Maria!" Her dad yelled, near the tents.

"What?" Hermione asked, confused, and slightly worried. She half expected a bear to come barreling out of the trees any second and eat them all. That's silly, she told herself, bears don't eat people. She had nothing to worry about except those nasty mosquitoes.

She was pulling herself off the ground when Draco reached her and nearly pulled her arms off. "Skunk!" He shouted, and quickly tugged her behind him.

"We're running from a skunk?" Hermione asked, instantly feeling better that it was just a tiny skunk and not a giant man eating bear. But of course, it was never man eating, she reminded herself again.

Draco stopped running. He looked at her, "Aren't they scary?"

Hermione grinned, "Not really."

He looked confused and said, "But your dad-"

"So you've never actually seen a skunk." Hermione smiled, feeling giddy, "Do you even know what they do?"

"Kids, get in the tent!" Maria called from behind them.

"Of course I know what they do." Draco said, though she knew he was lying.

"Yes?" She prompted.

But Draco was looking behind her, squinting, as if he was trying to make sense of something. "That's it? That tiny little thing?"

Hermione turned around. There it was, a small little black ball lumbering towards them. Its body moved side to side with each step it took. The skunk's white stripe was visible in the darkness and suddenly Hermione realised, with a sinking feeling in her guy, that the skunk was too close to them. "Draco-" She started, but it was useless, she saw.

"I thought it was bigger than that," Draco was saying, offhandedly.

The skunk's tail was rising up into the air and there was nothing they could do.

"You two are not coming anywhere near us and you are not getting in our car." Maria declared, after the pair of them had been sprayed, screamed, and showed themselves, shamefully, to her parents. Maria was holding her nose with two fingers, "You will be sleeping on the other side of the lake!"

"Mum-" Hermione started, holding her own nose. But it didn't help because her hand smelled just as bad.

"Burt," Maria said, ignoring her daughter. "Please go find tomato sauce and a big enough tub for them. Drive all night if you have to."

They were banished to the other side of the lake, and left to hope her dad was able to find them tomato sauce. Hermione was scowling and Draco looked as if he'd swallowed something he wasn't expecting to be sour.

"This is bloody awful. And muggles do this for FUN?" Draco asked, dropping down on the grass.

"Do muggles get sprayed by skunks for fun? No." Hermione growled, slightly bitter about being dragged on this trip. And Draco wrangling his way into it.

"You know, we wouldn't even be in this mess if you had just come with me." Draco said, after a few minutes of silence.

"Oh, sure. If I just followed you, everything would be perfect." Hermione rolled her eyes and laid back, looking up at sky. She looked for Venus, which Ginny told her appeared red in the sky. She always looked, but could never find it.

"You know, Hermione," He went on, unaffected by her, "since we both reek... maybe now would be the time for some skinny dipping."

Hermione felt herself blush in spite of everything, all her agitation draining away. "Oh, yes, with my parents right across the lake. How romantic."

"Okay. Maybe not skinny dipping. But... we could strip down to our knickers and-" The sound of his fly unzipping made her look at him.

"Do you know how gross that lake probably is?" She asked, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she knew what she was saying. She watched from her spot on the ground as Draco stood up and his jeans fell off his legs and onto the ground. He winked, and then slithered out of his shirt.

Her heart had practically stopped beating and she felt herself react in a way she hadn't anticipated. She felt frozen to the spot, her mouth going dry. She didn't even know if she would be joining him. After all, that water probably wasn't the cleanest and her parents were across the lake, and she had been furious a second before, and they'd only just gotten together and she wasn't about to just rip her clothes off and jump on him.

Even if he did look _very_ good in his black boxer briefs. Even if there was just enough moonlight to frame his body nicely. Even if she had a perfect view of his abdominal muscles.

He didn't wait for her. He dived right in. She watched, transfixed, as he swam laps, back and forth, right in front of her. He wasn't doing anything sexual, in fact, it was like he had forgotten she was there. But she couldn't help herself from watching and feeling excited and curious... and confident.

The smell really was atrocious. Maybe the water will help, she told herself. She looked down at herself and hesitantly touched the hemline of her she really about to do this? With all the cameras?

Draco and her had just gotten together and their relationship was only a little baby. They had it hard enough without complicating it by-

What was she so nervous about? What was the difference between swimming in her bra and panties than swimming in a bikini? Her underwear was black anyway, it wasn't like it would turn see through the moment she got it wet. Before she could change her mind, she stood up. She stepped out of clothes and plunged into the lake.

The water was cold and she felt particles on her legs, but it didn't matter. Draco had noticed her appearance in the water. He stopped swimming and watched her as she came towards him.

"Glad you decided to jump in." He said, grinning wickedly at her. For a moment, it felt almost like he was talking about something bigger than the lake. Like this moment solidified their relationship. It was real now. They had both accepted their differences and jumped in.

"Me too," She smiled at him. Her arms snaked around his neck, and he reciprocated, pulling her against him.

Their lips met and it was magical and slow and theirs. "You really smell, though," Hermione giggled, pulling away from him a little.

Draco's smile was reflected in his eyes. "So do you." He kissed her nose.

"Was this always your grand plan? Since day one of filming?" Hermione asked, standing on his toes in the water.

"What?" He asked, laughing so hard he threw his head back. "Getting sprayed by a skunk and nearly skinny dipping with you in a lake with your parents a few yards away?"

"I've heard you were good at Divination." She smiled, "Personally, I never cared for the subject."

"Neither do I," He said, "But this wasn't my plan."

"What was, then?"

His voice was husky when he said, "You."

She waited for him to say more. When he didn't she asked, "That's it?"

"Is there someone else I should want?" He asked, and then his forehead came to rest on hers. It felt like they had Apparated to their own world, and Hermione was content to stay there until the morning, when they would reappear in reality.

Forever.

Together.

* * *

**A/N Looks like Marty got a promotion :) I hope the camping was entertaining and, you know, it was all good and not corny and lame and I HOPE YOU LIKED IT AND YES. Cheers to you all. All reviews are appreciated, as always.**

***Also, to be completely honest, the camping trip... I didn't write that when I wrote the rest of this story. This chapter ended with the letter. But I kept thinking about it, and wondering if I had built the camping trip up too much and then all your reviews for the last chapter were like, "HOLY SHIT I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE HILARIOUS CAMPING TRIP OH MY GOOOODDDD!" So I realized, I had built it up and now I need to account for it. So I wrote the camping scene over the last two days and I hope it's wonderful and works, because I wrote the entire story over the summer. Meaning, I've had lots of time to go over it and make sure everything fits in nicely. And then this camping trip scene was born and I sincerely hope it lived up to your expectations and it was funny and sweet and good.* **

**THANKS SUPER AWESOME MUCH TO: Honoria Granger, RoguesMum, Blah Blah Blah Monster, edwardsoneandonlylove, HalfwaytoNowhere142, Irene Rose Hermione, alannalove1990, vickifay, HarryPotterGeneration, Lupa Eira, Loveable Leo, and hermionesme.**


	27. Epilogue

_EPILOGUE_

'I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be.'  
~Douglas Adams, The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul~

"I really hate flying," Draco said, not for the first time. Hermione smiled and took his hand as they waited on the tarmac. She glanced over at him and then out of their tiny window as the plane began to back out of the spot. "Allow me to rephrase. I hate flying _in planes._"

"Because they're muggle?" She teased, smiling brightly at him.

His face relaxed as he looked at her, some of the tension ebbing away. He smiled softly, "Maybe if it was a year ago."

Hermione kissed his cheek and then squirmed in her seat. She couldn't believe the day had finally come. It was nearly Christmas, which meant more than just presents, even though her suitcase was full of presents. But the show they had worked so hard on over the summer was finally going to be airing. Hermione wondered what it would be like, seeing herself on tv, and what the effects of the show would be.

She also hadn't seen her family or Harry and Ron and Ginny since the middle of September. One of the schools Hermione had applied to was a small little place in Scotland that was known widely for their law program- they had been able to offer her admission in the fall instead of waiting until the spring. And so when Draco left to work with dragons, she went with him. They had finally been alone, away from the Ministry and all their cameras. Ginny couldn't stalk them, although she did write frequently, even though she had a heavy seventh year course load back at Hogwarts. Harry wrote, too, but he was pretty busy with auror duties. Ron never wrote- but after all these years she had learned to expect that.

Draco counted to one hundred under his breath and then they were in the air and he was chewing his gum like it was a lifeline. Hermione rubbed his hand, waiting for him to calm down. The seatbelt sign clicked off, but Draco didn't make any movements. They probably should have taken the train to spare him his newfound phobia, but they had waited too long to book their tickets. Draco had fought valiantly for Apparating, but Hermione wanted to travel the muggle way. So they compromised: they'd be Apparating back.

Draco opened his eyes and let out a deep breath. He glanced at her smiling face and scowled. "I'm fine."

"Sure you are, Tough Guy." She grinned, looking back out the window. Scotland looked so tiny beneath them, all the mountains hidden below the clouds. Flying always entranced her- flying in planes, that was. Brooms were not her preferred method of travel. Draco had forced her on one- but if you asked him, he would have said he "gently lifted her" onto one- during one of their many evenings in Scotland. She had screamed bloody murder and slapped him numerous times once they were safely on the ground.

Draco's head dropped onto her shoulder and she turned to look at him. She didn't realise she was smiling as she studied him. He had fallen asleep.

He woke up just before they landed. He blinked, looking around like he wasn't sure where they were. "Did you read the whole flight?" His voice was scratchy. She didn't say anything, shutting her book, as she watched him crinkle his nose. He pulled the gum he had been chewing out of his mouth. He looked horrified and she smiled.

"Yes," Hermione answered, passing him a napkin. He took it and then grimaced as the plane began to descent. His ears were probably filling with air. He reached for her hand and looked like he wished he was still asleep.

"We'll be on the ground in no time," She promised, "You did well."

"Of course I did well," He scoffed, "I'm a Malfoy."

She rolled her eyes.

Heathrow was crowded with holiday travellers. They made their way hand in hand through the crowds to find the luggage carousel. Hermione fiddled with Draco's scarf she was wearing. She knew if Harry or Ginny saw her wearing her boyfriend's Slytherin scarf from Hogwarts they would kill her, but she couldn't wear her own Gryffindor scarf since Draco had taken it as his own.

"_Accio,"_ Draco said under his breath, and suddenly their bags appeared in front of them. She glared at him and he smiled innocently, taking her bag in addition to his. "Lets go," He grinned, nodding towards the door.

She followed him, smiling to herself. Draco had changed in many ways, but he still wasn't immune to using magic for simple tasks. And she didn't mind, because there were more important ways in which he'd changed.

"We're Apparating, aren't we?" She asked, once they were outside.

Draco glanced at the taxi line and then back at her. "I'd like to."

She smiled and took his hand. They were standing in front of her home, the warmth practically oozing out. The lights shown through the window and she could see the Christmas tree sitting in the parlour. There was a snowman in their tiny front yard. The pavement was covered in a light dusting of snow. Hermione squeezed his hand and Draco whispered in her ear, "Welcome home."

She was about to lean up and kiss him, but the door opened and Ginny was jumping on them.  
"Oh my gosh! 'Mione, hi! Merlin, I've missed you!"

Hermione laughed and hugged her red headed friend back. "I missed you too, Gin."

"You cut your hair!" Ginny shouted ecstatically when they had pulled away. "You look amazing!" And then she saw the scarf and her eyes narrowed, "What is that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, already have anticipated the reaction. Before she could say anything, Ginny had turned on Draco and shoved her finger in his face as she said, "YOU-"

"'Mione!" Harry's voice broke through, and suddenly she was wrapped up in her friend's arms. She had just barely gotten a look at him, but she saw he was still wearing his glasses. Draco, she saw over Harry's shoulders, didn't look the least bit nonplussed at having Ginny's finger in his face.

"I thought you got contacts!" She said, pulling away to look at him. She squeezed his cheeks and laughed.

"Oh, he won't wear them," Ginny answered, "Says he's allergic to them."

"I AM!" Harry shouted defensively. "Ginny thinks I lie about everything."

"We have more important matters to deal with," Ginny put in, "Have you seen Hermione's scarf?"

"What-?" Harry trailed off, and then his eyes went downwards. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh." Hermione rolled her eyes.

She was saved from an explanation when she heard a shout from the doorway that sounded distinctly like her mother. "Would you two let me see my daughter already?"

The four them made their way inside and Hermione was instantly warmed. Her parents were waiting, looking just as she remembered them. They hugged her tightly, and for a moment it felt like they hadn't been separated for three months.

Leaving had been hard, especially after what they had gone through being apart during the war. But Hermione knew there was a day she'd have to move forward with her life and learn to stand on her own and trust her family would still be there. And they were.

"Oh, sweetheart, you look gorgeous! You have to tell us everything! And Draco, oh!" Her mum launched herself at the boy in question and hugged him, "Look at you! There must be something in the air in Scotland! And Happy Christmas!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but smiled at the scene in front of her. Draco laughed and hugged her mum back. When they pulled away, she watched as he looked around the room and found his own parents waiting their turn. He smiled and stepped towards them, hugging his mum.

She gave them some privacy and went to greet the rest of the Weasley clan. There was a Muggle-Pureblood Relations Program premiere party going on at her house tonight. Mrs. Weasley hugged her tightly and George lifted her off the ground. He and Angelina were getting married in a few weeks and if his letters were anything to go by, he was eager to get the whole thing over with and get to the honeymoon already.

Percy waved to her from the dining room, where he had his paperwork spread out around him. Bill and Fleur were sitting on the floor with baby Victoire, who was playing with some blocks. Charlie hadn't been able to make it home because of a hurricane in Romania- all the dragon handlers needed to be on call. Ron came out of the kitchen, wiping frosting off his lips. He smiled at Hermione and she met him halfway.

"Hey, Weasley," She smiled, hugging him.

"'Mione," He was strong- auror training finally kicking in. "How've you been?"

"I'm great," She laughed, meaning every word of it. It hadn't been easy, getting back to a good place with Ron. In fact, it wasn't until she had left for Scotland with Draco that they began writing to each other. She knew he and Jenna were still together, and she didn't mind. She was happy they were happy. Ron was one of her best friends. He always would be.

Jenna smiled and it seemed less annoying than she remembered. Hermione smiled and hugged her, "Hi, Jenna,"

Once everyone finished their greetings, they pilled onto the couch, the chairs, and the floor, as they geared up to watch the show. Draco and Hermione told stories, among everyone else's. Draco showed Harry his scar where he got bitten his first day, while Harry showed off his bruise where he got hit in the head during a wild chase through Diagon Alley. Hermione rolled her eyes at them and told George about all she was learning in her Theories of Government class.

And then soon enough it was time for the episode to start. Harry made the telly louder and Ginny leaned back against him. "Time to watch Lucius be an arse." Narcissa joked, pinching her husband's knee.

He scowled and leaned back against the sofa, like he wanted to disappear. Lucius had gradually begun to warm up to their big clan, but he still had a lot of work to do. Either way, his foul mood didn't ruin the atmosphere and Hermione smiled into Draco's shoulder.

"What did we even do that first day?" She asked.

"The museum..." He trailed off, kissing her head. They were sitting on the floor, next to the couch. He touched her knee.

"You really liked the horses," She remembered, as Wilson Betemit came on the screen, giving this dramatic speech about the making of this program.

He smiled fondly, like he was recalling the memory, "I had just read about Seabiscuit, that famous race horse. I was interested."

"SHHH!" George said obnoxiously, throwing a pillow at them. Draco caught it easily and threw it back. Angelina caught it and hit George with it, making the room erupt with laughter.

It couldn't have been a better moment, Hermione thought, as the show started. It was weird seeing herself and everyone else on the tv. Lucius regarded her with contempt and Narcissa looked like there was a foul smell in the room. Hermione remembered that day so clearly now that she was seeing it played back.

"This is so surreal," She whispered, shutting her eyes.

Draco chuckled in her ear, "I quite like it."

She rolled her eyes, "No, you don't."

"You're right. I hate it." Just as the words left his lips, a series of criticisms erupted in the room.

"I DO NOT SOUND LIKE THAT!"

"Oh, gosh, why did I wear that?"

"Stop complaining! I'm not even in this show! I was at Hogwarts all summer!"

"Lucky you."

"I can't believe I wore that! Why did you tell me it looked nice?"

"I don't look like that. The camera adds way more than ten pounds."

"I can't believe they didn't edit that out!"

"Ron feeeeeeell!"

"Shut up."

"I'M NOT IN LOVE WITH HERMIONE!"

"YOU? What makes you think I love you, George!"

"When I get my hands on that Betemit arsehole-"

"George, have some manners. He's the- I'M GOING TO KILL THAT PLONKER! I SPENT ALL DAY MAKING THAT DINNER AND HE JUST-"

"Dad! I can't believe you said that!"

"Lucius, would it have killed you to smile a little?"

"I have a zit!"

"Astoria looks like a toad!"

"I did not say that! They totally edited that! I swear, I did not do that."

"Merlin, this is awful! How is _THIS_ supposed to solve anything?"

"Thank Merlin I'm not in this show."

"Oh, shut up, Potter."

The show finally ended and Hermione couldn't have been happier. Everyone had much to say, but Hermione kept herself busy with the cake her mother had baked earlier that day. She and Draco sat at the table while everyone went on about the show. Draco was smiling at her and then he took another forkful of chocolate cake.

Hermione laughed and ran her finger over his lips. "Chocolate."

"I know, I'm such a child." He laughed.

"Only when it comes to cake," She added, taking another piece. "This is so good. Oh my gosh."

"Oh, you two, being all adorable in the corner." Ginny laughed, coming over to them. "Thinking we won't see you feeding each other cake."

"We weren't-" Draco started, but Ginny cut him off.

"Don't think I missed that little moment, Malfoy. I see everything."

"You're a little creepy, Gin," Ron said, coming over to join them. Harry was on his right side and went, "A little?"

Ginny stuck her tongue out at them and Hermione smiled. She offered Ginny her fork with a piece of cake on it. Ginny happily took it and sighed, "Your mum is a goddess."

"This should be illegal," Hermione added.

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's just cake." He picked up a fork and took a piece. "Merlin."

Ginny looked triumphant and Draco shook his head at them.

There was one thing Hermione knew for sure. The Muggle-Pureblood Relations Program may not change anyone's minds. It may not bring anyone together. But it had brought her and Draco and their families together. Because Harry and Ginny and Ron were her family, among her parents and the rest of the Weasleys. The Muggle-Pureblood Relations Program had brought all these people together that probably would never have found each other without it. Never would she have pictured Draco and Harry and Ron all getting along. And yet, they were.

She smiled, taking another bite of cake. It was Christmas Eve, but that didn't stop Draco from reaching across the table and taking her hand. "Happy Christmas," he said.

She smiled, knowing it would be the first of many. Together.

"How can you be talking when there's cake to be eaten?"

* * *

"Minister, sir, we're editing the final episode now... if you want to watch the final confessionals-" Jake Ransom started, staring nervously at Wilson Betemit.

Wilson Betemit looked up from his empty desk. It was this time of the year when he remembered how alone he was. Everyone was excited over holiday bonuses and family dinners, while he had to deal with everyone's problems. He rolled his eyes, "I already watched the Greengrasses go on about how _blessed_ they are to have gone through this experience. And the Weasley boy go on an on about how happy he is to have found the Boyle girl-"

"Minister," Jake cut in, fidgeting, "We've just finished the Malfoys' and Granger's piece."

"What makes you think I want to listen to that little girl go on about how she's gonna get a degree and go moon shoes over Draco Malfoy?" Wilson said, acidly. All his resentment over the holiday season was coming forth and Jake was, unfortunately, taking the brunt of it.

Marty Biggs came in then, with a smile on his face and a donut in hand. He was also carrying a muggle laptop and said brightly, "Done. Whole series, completed."

Wilson studied Marty for a moment, hardly believing it was the same kid that had come up with the idea months ago. Besides the fact that all of Marty's acne was gone, he carried himself differently. Maybe keeping Lucius Malfoy in line for months had something to do with it. "This better be good."

Marty walked into the office and put the laptop down on the desk. He pushed a button and in moments Draco and Hermione were on the screen, sitting on a couch in the Manor. "And what have you learned from this experience?" A voice was asking from somewhere off camera.

Draco rolled his eyes and Hermione nudged him. "Draco still hasn't really grasped the idea of social skills."

"I have plenty social skills!" Draco interjected, "I went on that fishing trip with Potter and Weasley last weekend."

"Oh, yes," Hermione rolled her eyes, "Harry and Ron pushed you off the boat because you were _such_ good company."

Draco rolled his eyes again and waved this off, like it was irrelevant, "That was a guy thing. You wouldn't understand."

"Riiight," She giggled and then the scene changed to Narcissa and Lucius sitting on the same couch.

Narcissa patted her husband's knee and said, "I think we've both learned to be more tolerant of others. Really, Hermione is a doll and Draco is just... well, he really cares for her. You know, the other day, she was teaching him how to drive. He nearly drove into the lake, of course, but he's still trying."

"And you Lucius?" The voice prompted.

Narcissa nudged her husband, "Come on. You promised Draco you'd make an effort."

"I already made an effort accepting the Granger gir-"

"Lucius."

The older man sighed and said, "Accepting_ Hermione_ into our lives. It's not my doing the boy wants to go jumping into muggle vehicles and drown in a lake."

"Draco was very unhappy. He really wanted to impress her. He was blushing when Hermione told us the story." Narcissa added.

Lucius rolled her eyes, "There are broomsticks and the Floo Network. No one needs an _automobile_. And don't get me started on that motorcycle the Potter boy likes to drive around."

The scene changed again and it was Draco and Hermione. "What message do you have to witches and wizards that still see muggle-born witches or muggles as inferior beings?"

"This one is for you," Hermione turned to Draco. He rolled his eyes and she poked his side, "Come on! Time to get cheesy."

"I do not _do_ cheesy." Draco said, seriously, before turning to the camera and saying, "I have learned that I was wrong and Hermione was right."

"That's it?" Hermione asked, "That was your big declaration about equal rights and-"

"Yes, Hermione, that's all."

"Well that sucked."

"'Mione, I just want this bloody show to end so we can go and live our lives together-"

The scene cut back to Lucius and Narcissa. "I'm happy my son is happy and that we're all together." Lucius said, genuinely. Narcissa beamed at him and kissed his cheek.

"I second that. Draco has never been happier and our home is our own again. Everything is just as it should be. And Hermione is taking us to this muggle amusement park next weekend, before it gets too cold. She and Draco will be leaving soon, you know, and we're all just spending a lot of time together."

"Love, I think that's enough now," Lucius said, taking his wife's hand.

"Yes, I guess you're right. It's time to say goodbye. It'll be weird, not doing this sit down confessional thing once a week. I quite enjoyed it. Hermione taught me so many things. And all we could take her to was dinners and Ministry hearings. Quite boring our life, but the way muggles live- _fascinating!"_

"Love, it's over-"

"I'm not finished, Lucius!" As Narcissa went on and on about Hermione had enriched their lives, the credits began to roll and Jake turned to Wilson.

"What did you think, sir?"

"Good. We made a damn good show."

"Yes, we did, Minister." Jake smiled.

Marty grinned and then looked at his boss, who had once terrified him. "Mr. Betemit, would you like to join my family for Christmas dinner?"

Wilson's neck nearly snapped from the sudden turn he made. He smiled fondly at Marty, who he had once said reminded him of himself. He shook his head, "Thank you, Marty. But, no. I have some more suff to do here."

Marty nodded and picked up the laptop. "You know where I am if you change your mind. Come on, Jake, lets hand in the final copy and head home."

They left Wilson Betemit. Wilson leaned back in his chair and looked at his empty desk. He played back the footage he had just seen in his mind and thought about how far the Malfoys had come. He looked up and then stood, gathering his coat.

"Oi! Marty! Get back here, you lazy dog!"

_The End_

* * *

**A/N Not gonne lie, guys. I was bummed with the reviews for last chapter. And I put that chapter up in like 3 days, so I took my frustration out on you by not putting this up as fast. Petty, I know. Seriously, though, ********I'm so grateful to everyone that has reviewed. You won't understand what it means unless you're a writer, desperately wanting feedback on your work and how disheartening it is to not get any, or very little. **

******Special, awesome, thanks to everyone that has reviewed ever :D And thanks to the 8 of you reviewed the last chapter: vickifay, Zenfish, Loveable Leo, RoguesMum, Blah Blah Blah Monster, FuryPossessed, Ch1yom1, and edwardsoneandonlylove. **

******I hope you enjoyed the story :) Cheers and thanks, everyone. **


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